


Come As You Are

by Cherri_Pauper, StormFireGirl



Category: Motorcity (Cartoon)
Genre: An extra helping for world building, Angst, Blood and Injury, Cybernetics, Demisexuality, F/F, Flashbacks, Gay Male Character, Heavy Angst, Lesbian Character, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Oh My God, Original Character(s), Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherri_Pauper/pseuds/Cherri_Pauper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormFireGirl/pseuds/StormFireGirl
Summary: Chuck is borrowed for a few days. Well, less "borrowed", more "kidnapped-by-a-guy-with-a-few-screws-loose".The Burners deal with losing one of their own. They go to find him in a place Motorcity tries to forget.
Relationships: Mike Chilton/Chuck/Dutch/Julie Kane/Texas, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 12





	1. Of Monsters and Men

In Motorcity, you come to expect the unexpected. In a lawless, territorial gang-controlled city, one learns to anticipate any foul play, double cross, or drop. Hopefully not your _own_. It was an early Saturday morning for the Burners and so far, so quiet. It had been for a while, since Kane was still rebuilding his forces from his big scale attack on their home, which gave them plenty of time to rebuild and strengthen ties. Or, in Chuck’s case, plenty of free weekends to spend LARPing uninterrupted, continuing his quests as Lord Vanquisher of the Realm. Oh, and on occasion joined by his Knights Fierce, including Smiling Dragon. 

“Fortune smiles upon me today! I take my leave, my knights!”

“Oh go already and stop nerding out.” Dutch teased as he fitted a new part under the hood of Mutt, instinctually smacking away Texas’ hand as he tried to poke another part of the engine. _Again_ . “Sorry we can’t join you on your adventures today.” 

“Fear not, for I have the Dark One and the Oracle awaiting at the, ah, _usual_ pick up spot.” Chuck eyed the gates a moment, suddenly all LARP persona bravado evaporating. “Are you guys _sure_ you don’t wanna come with?” 

“We’re just finishing-” Dutch smacked Texas’ hand with a wrench this time, “- up Mutt today, and need to test her out. Didja check with Mike?”

“Yeah, he’s busy with Jacob. Julie’s upstairs.” 

“So I guess you’re going alone unless Texas--” 

“ _Nooo thank you_! It gets weird when you guys aren’t there to like, level off the nerdiness. Texas is awesome but even he can’t penetrate that level of nerd!”

“You won’t cuz’ you can’t penetrate Ruby.”

“What?”

“What?” Chuck pretended he hadn’t muttered anything. 

Dutch blinked and decided to not breach _that_ topic. “Well. Then you’re goin’ alone man. Save the Kingdom for us!” 

“There will be a feast in your honor-!”

“Please just go.”

“Ugh, fine, I’m going _mom_. See you guys later!” He punched in the numbers, but seemed a little more twitchy than usual to Dutch. Maybe some pre-battle nerves? Who cared. There was a car that needed modding. Or, as Texas kept insisting, “Texas-ifying it!” 

That was the last any of the Burners, or _anyone_ , saw Chuck. 

\---

Julie was the first to arrive back at base, sighing softly as she pulled up in 9Lives. “Sheesh. Whatta day.” She flopped immediately on the couch, looking worn out. “Kane barely let me leave his side! He was just going on and on about _nothing_ and I’m getting weirded out.”

  
“Weirder than Texas’ thing for Ruby?”

“HEY!”

“Weirder than that, yeah.” Julie sniggered a bit, a smile breaking across her face as they ignored Texas’ lovelorn pouting in the corner. “I dunno, it feels like we’re going in circles. I really think Kane’s got _nothing_ , absolutely nothing. He’s trying to think up something but he’s hit a dead end.” 

“Well good!” Jacob called out as he walked in, holding a tray of his, ah, _special muffins_. “Let the rat tailed bastard hide in his little box for a while longer, gives us time to cook up some more defence! Speaking ‘a which, where’s Chuck? I made his favorites.” 

“Still out LARPing. I guess the campaign ran late.” Dutch shrugged from where he was sitting, watching as Mike returned from his test run of Mutt. “How’s she running?” He called down into the yard. 

“Like she never _stopped_. This is like totally amazing Dutch, she’s almost as good as new!” Mike whooped as he shut the door and headed for the stairs leading up to the Snack Shack. 

“Guess we gotta make her better than new then.” Dutch challenged the Burner when he got upstairs. “Chuck’s not here by the way.”

Mike paused. “He’s not?”

“Nah. He’s still out fighting for his kingdom.” The man chuckled as he played with a neon colored, holographic rubik's cube. “Not surprised. Remember two weekends ago?”

“Hah, we must’ve spent sixteen hours out there!” Mike grinned as he sat down, waving at Julie from where she was still sprawled out, refusing to move. 

“Sixteen hours of watching Texas try to flirt with Ruby.” 

“Texas was _not_ flirting!” He snapped at Julie. “Texas was just, bein’ nice. Cuz’ ya know.” 

“Sorry. But, in our defence we did try to tell you she’s not into you.” 

“I still can’t believe you thought she was _Lebanese_!” Dutch started laughing. It was a little mean on his part but oh well, it was too funny! 

“How was I supposed to know she liked kissing girls?!”

“She made out with that princess we rescued _twice_ when you were in the middle of trying to protect her.” Dutch deadpanned. Texas went quiet. “Aw Texas, hey, ya win some ya lose some man. She would’ve made a great addition ‘t us but she _definitely_ had the hots only for Julie.” 

“... Wait what-?” 

A call to their comms interrupted their banter, and Mike sat up a bit to answer. “Oh hey, Ruby! We were just talkin’ about you.” 

“Uh, I’ll just assume it was something good.” Ruby said, looking a bit uncharacteristically uncertain, as she looked at Mike and the other Burners in view.

She wasn’t in her traditional LARPing garb. No crownlet. No sword. The only thing staying the same, as she stood there in her red hoodie, was the braid that rested on her shoulder. That _definitely_ was not usual for her. They rarely saw her out of her outfit. 

“Did the quest end already?” Mike asked. “If you need me to come get Chuck I’ll be there ASAP.”

“The quest never started." Her face and tone were pinched, but then she was distracted by someone trying to lean into frame. “ _Hey_! Get your own comm link to the Burners, I’m talking to them right now!” 

“Aww, come on Rubes!”

“Don’t ‘ _Rubes_ ’ me asshole! You want me to run you through with my sword? I’ll run you through with my-!” 

Mike coughed. “Uh Ruby? Hey? So what’s going on? You said you didn’t start the quest.”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. So uh, is Lord- is _Chuck_ okay?” 

“He was fine? Why?” 

“He never showed up.” Those four words from Ruby got everyone’s full attention. Julie got up, and Dutch scooted around to Mike’s left; Texas stopped his pining mope and picking up his head a bit. “We thought he was sick or something.” 

“No, he left a few hours ago.” Dutch’s brow furrowed. “Y’ sure he never showed up?”

“He didn’t, and something else happened. That’s why I called you guys, Thurman ‘n’ I got the creeps but nobody else was around to see it happen.” 

“See _what_ happen Ruby?” Mike’s tone was serious now. 

“There was this guy. He was like some generic looking trucker dude with a mole, and we didn’t recognize him. We thought he was a new player, but he didn’t have the gear or costume, or designs on his truck. His truck had nothing.” 

Now this really caught Dutch’s attention. “Hold up: this truck had _nothing_? As in, no mods? No gang colors? Nothing?”

“Yeah that’s what nothing tends to mean. Ugh. Okay, so here’s what happened: I look at this guy and he’s being all sketchy. We’ve dealt with some creepers coming around, but they’ve never been this unnerving. He went up to Thurman and I, and he started asking us about what the quickest way out of the area was. He said he got lost ‘on an errand’ and made a wrong turn. Thurman started to tell him but I heard _something_. I- I think he kidnapped someone.” Ruby’s normally aggressive bravado was dissipating as she spoke. 

“How do you know it wasn’t like pigeons or somethin’?” Texas popped up between Mike and Dutch’s heads. 

“If pigeons started screaming like humans locked in trunks, I think we have a problem either way.” 

“So what did you do?” 

“Nothing. My sword’s awesome but it’s made of wood dude.” It was weird to hear her speak so informally. It was as bizarre as this whole call felt. “He hit the hood and I _swear_ there was a dent! Thurman almost peed himself--”

“--Hey!--”

“- And then he just got in his truck and left. No thank you, no goodbyes.” She paused. “Y- you, don’t think that was Chuck do you? We were waiting for him to get here, he usually walks halfway before the Oracle- _Dennis_ picks him up.” 

They all eyed each other. Screaming? Definitely their buddy. 

“Oh my god.” Ruby looked horrified. “I shoulda done something! I shoulda-!”

“Hey, hey, hey now! It’s not your fault Ruby. You didn’t have any weapons and if this guy was strong enough to dent metal, it’s good you didn’t engage. You gave us what we need to start looking but, I’m sure it’s fine. Chuck’s smart, he probably got sidetracked at Antonio’s.” The others knew he was lying through his teeth to keep Ruby from panicking. “Call us if you see anything else.”

  
“Right. Thanks guys. Uhm, Texas? No hard feelings?” 

“Yeah, ah, no hard feelings.”

  
“Cool. See you guys soon.” She hung up. 

Mike stood up, pushing by Julie, right back into leader mode. “Jules, get ready to check for any security cameras on the route Chuck usually takes. Dutch, Texas, we’ll take the cars out, go looking for him.” 

_Please don’t let this be happening,_ Mike thought as he went for Mutt. _Please don’t let Chuckles be gone, please. Please, please let it be an overreaction!_

He climbed into his newly furnished car, taking a deep breath in. He couldn’t panic. He needed to keep a level head for the others. Chuck was-- he was _fine._ This wasn’t their first rodeo, he knew how to duck and dodge any conflicts. 

_And yet…_ Somewhere deep down Mike knew that Chuck was valuable. A programmer and hacker all in one. He wasn’t physically fit, and while he was a great sharpshooter hand-to-hand was never his thing. Chuck was easy pickings for an opportunist. 

_An opportunist._

_“Mikey, I swear, someone is watching us!” Chuck fussed as he sat at the booth, looking across the table at the Burner’s leader. “It happened again. I saw someone hanging outside of Antonio’s, in the shadows just watching us leave. It was creepy!”_

_“Relax Chuck, it’s usually Mike who gets jumpy after Kane doesn’t pop up.” Dutch was further back, behind him, passing through to head to the garage._

_“You believe me don’t you Mike?”_

_“... Buddy, I’m sure Dutch is right, it’s probably nothing, don’t worry. Maybe it’s a fan of ours who’s too shy to say hi!”_

_“Mikey.” Chuck’s face fell. “I’m really serious. I think we’re being stalked.”_

Chuck was right. Why hadn’t Mike listened?! He turned on Mutt, listening to her growl but he wasn’t filled with the thrill of the ride ahead. He just felt _dread_. 

\---

_Breathe in, breathe out. You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine. You’re right about the stalker, you may be right about being potentially assaulted/murdered, but you’re fine! For now! Ooooh god._

Trying to talk yourself out of your fifth panic attack of the last who knew how long was tougher than he’d convinced himself. Then again, what else did he have left? The bed of the tailgate was sturdy, and the hood was solid metal. There were no tail lights to kick out. The hood of the tailgate was sealed shut and his wrists were tied. He had tried to scoot, backwards, over to the handle after the first time they’d stopped and he heard Ruby and Thurman. Why, why, _why_ didn’t they realize it was _him_?! At least he now knew what would happen if he didn’t stay quiet. The dent above his head was pretty obvious (and no it wasn’t weak enough to puncture through, he’d tried). So back to the handle. Yeah. The terrain they were going over was too rough, he’d been jostled and jolted and he needed steady hands to try and remote-hack the lock.

The truck bounced, he shrieked, wincing as his shoulder slammed into the metal. Dammit why did he have to bruise easy? Why didn’t the others go with him? Why didn’t Mike believe him?! 

… why was he such a weak link… 

They suddenly slowed, and rolled to a stop. Chuck’s eyes widened. _Get ready_ , he told himself, _put up every bit of a fight you’ve got left! So what if you’re scrawny? So what if you can’t punch a guy out to save your life? So what- I should stop thinking._ Yeah he was not the best at pep talks. 

Driver door slamming, boots crunching gravel and dirt. He could hear him coming around the side of the truck, but he was going slow. Why? _We’ve been driving for hours, he’s probably stretching. This may be my only chance, c’mon!_ He scooted, ever quietly and ever so carefully over to the lock and winced as he squinted, activating his lenses. They flashed, blue in the dark, and lines of code began to flicker. 

_Come on, focus. Gotta get this right!_

A door slammed. It wasn’t the truck, and it wasn’t from a car. Chuck hesitated, and squinted, shutting it off. Not much good it would do anyway, his comm signal had lost range. Wherever this lunatic had taken him, they were somewhere close to the edge of the dome. _Uh oh_. 

Deep voices talking. He shut his eyes, and listened: 

“... home late.” 

“Yeah.” His captor had a thing for one-word answers. 

“Any reason why?” 

“... Errands again.”

“Right. Well if you _insist_ on being out this late, at least let me know so I don’t worry about any Drop Outs swinging by!” 

Chuck’s eyes widened. They sounded _domestic._ Maybe-? “HEY!” He screamed, kicking the metal. “LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!” The truck bed began to rattle. “LET ME OUT!” He furiously kicked the side, making the tailgate wobble. _Please see, please see, please-_

“What. The fuck. Is in the tailgate?” A pause. “Adam?!”

“The errand.”

“Oh my-” stomping footsteps, over to the tailgate’s handle, and you could just _hear_ the exhaustion in the man’s voice as he berated his captor: “You honestly don’t think anymore do you? You’ve shorted out every cranial circuit you have! _Kidnapping_ ! _Kidnapping!”_

“I just borrowed him.”

“That’s- _what part of borrowing involves your captive screaming to be released!”_ The hood swung open, and the tailgate door was dropped. It was a loud rattle, and Chuck met (through his bangs) the gaze of a large, bespectacled man in a lab coat. “... Adam. A question.” He spoke, sounding oddly calm. 

“Yes?”

“Come here.” When Chuck’s kidnapper reluctantly obeyed, like a witness at a murder trial, he pointed at the younger man. “What does that symbol represent?” It was like he was speaking to a toddler. Chuck tried to push himself up, but was failing to. 

“... It’s the Burners symbol?” 

“Ex- _actly._ ” He turned, still smiling, and then grabbed the other man’s collar! “Exactly you imbecile! You’ve doomed us both! Do you understand-? No, no you don’t, you wouldn’t have taken him otherwise! Why do I even try?” He let go, turning away almost dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me break this down for you: The Burners regularly take on _Kane, Kane’s monstrosities, Kane’s Cadets,_ and other _gangs_ with ten times the firepower _they_ do. We have none of that. They’ll be looking for him, and they’ll find him, and _we will be screwed Adam! S-C-R-E-W-E-D_!” 

His captor- Adam - only just shifted from foot to foot. His expression went unchanged as he glanced over at Chuck with those lifeless looking eyes beneath the brim of his hat. It caused him to instinctively gulp and lower his head as he knew, _he knew_ that this guy would have had no qualms getting rid of him if he really wanted. Yet he looked away, back towards the larger man. His gaze just as quickly switched, unable to make eye contact. He looked off towards the distance before he finally spoke:

“... S’not like they know where we are.”

“Adam, I am _this_ close,” the man pinched his fingers almost together, “to kicking your ass _myself_ for once! We talked about this.”

  
“We did?”

“We did! We had a very long talk about this, over one of Mina’s cakes!”

Chuck blinked. “So, uh, can I go home now?” He squeaked out. 

“Sorry kid, you may as well be useful while you’re here. Adam never grabs people without a reason.”

_This wasn’t the first time?! How many victims did this guy have?!?_

“If you do your job, you’ll be fine. Just, trust me on this. Adam, let’s bring him in. It’s late, and I have to go grocery shopping _myself_ tomorrow because apparently errands _to you_ are something completely different!” His tone went from half-hearted assurance to frustration in a split second, walking away as Chuck was grabbed by his shirt and yanked out of the truck!

He was dropped, like he was nothing, he _weighed nothing_ (he was skinny but come on). This guy just as easily grabbed the back of Chuck’s shirt and some of his hair, dragging him across the ground. Chuck looked fitfully around, for a landmarker, a road sign, _something, anything to tell him where he was!_

There was nothing out there. It was hilly, the cables peeking out through dead earth and creating the rolls that obscured most of the landscape. Far away, he could swear he could see a tiny pinprick of light on one of the looming humps. Was that a house-?

He was pulled through, into a log cabin, and the door was shut. 


	2. We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Burners learn their wanted man is from a place Texas is scared to go to.
> 
> Chuck learns one his captors has a past, but more questions are raised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by: The Duke of Detroit!

* * *

“Nothing?” Mike was astonished. They’d looked for a few hours now, and they couldn’t find a trace of Chuck anywhere. Even the feeds Julie pulled up couldn’t find anything. 

"I think we need to do one of Texas' plans." Texas pipes up. "Hey Tiny! We should go get--"

"Saving it for the back pocket still Tex. Sorry bud." Mike quickly stopped the other Burner before he could go on his usual tirade of crazy plans. His worry kept him from being able to play along and be patient as they continued to drive around. "Julie, you sure there isn't any sign of Chuck or that guy Ruby talked about anywhere?"

“No, nothing. I’ve checked the feeds twice now and-- wait. Hold on.” Julie paused. “I may have found something!” Silence, and then still captured images of the back of a truck appeared on their screens. “Ruby said he was driving a truck. If that isn’t one I don’t know what one looks like!”

“It looks unmodded too from this angle.” Dutch added. “Where’s this from?” 

“About a quarter mile out from the LARPer’s park.” 

“Fits the bill.” Mike’s brow furrowed. “Are you able to enhance the images at all Jules?”

“I’ll try but these cameras are low resolution. It’ll be hard.” She warned before hanging up. 

Mike sighed, under his breath. One question answered, another dozen popped up. Among them included some darker thoughts Mike didn’t like and stifled, particularly ones about making this guy pay for taking his buddy. He was better than that. He knew better, at least. Besides, plotting revenge was not his M.O. and right now Chuck was the primary focus. 

The comm line beeped, and he answered: “Talk to me Jules, whatcha got?”

“I tried to enhance the images Mike, but beyond the color we have nothing.” 

"Dang it." He groaned, leaning back in his seat as he looked at the feed Julie was sharing with him. He tried to get his own good look at the image, squinting, as if it would help even a--

"Wait Jules; look into the cameras around Chuck's usual route from the Garage, before the halfway mark. Maybe we can get a better look at whoever this creep is too, if we're lucky and he tailed Chuck.” The Burner had been worried about them being stalked. Wouldn’t the kidnapper know when Chuck would leave the hideout? 

“On it.”

"Good thinking Mike!"

"Dutch, Tex, you two follow me. We'll do a quick comb around the halfway point to see if we mighta missed something.” 

They turned their cars around, heading back over to where Chuck would have waited for his friends to pick him up. Mike tapped the wheel. He kept thinking he’d look next to him and there would be Chuck, either panicking or busy coding. The car felt too damn quiet without him. “Just a little longer buddy. We’re comin’ for ya.” 

He and the others pulled up to the spot, got out, and combed it yet again. Nothing. Mike’s training, the good parts anyways taught him to leave no figurative or literal stone unturned. But what did you do when there were no stones to overturn? He was getting antsier as the night wore on. There had to be _something_ , a truck didn’t just roll over here without someone seeing. Finding nothing, they climbed back in, tracing Chuck’s beaten path yet again. There had to be something. Something. _Something_. 

“Mike?” Julie finally called. He picked up instantly. “I found something!” She sent the next images, clips of Chuck walking down the road, about half a mile outside of the hideout. It would have still been in sight. A truck driving towards him. The driver skidded to a halt, got out, keeping his head low as he waved down Chuck. The Burner stopped, confused it seemed or startled. Then his arm was grabbed and twisted almost _painfully_ behind him! 

For all of his flaws, Chuck put up a pretty good fight. He was kicking, trying to land one on the man’s insole but another twist stopped him. His wrists were bound, he was dragged over to the tailgate and shoved in. The driver took off immediately after. 

The fearless leader of the Burners suddenly felt a wash of anger he hadn’t felt since Kane almost had him murder innocent people. This guy was _done for_. “Got any pictures of the man’s face, Jules?”

“Nothing really, but his chin caught my eye.” She sent a zoomed in capture of it. There was a mole right where the description said it’d be. “It matches what Ruby said.” 

“Why would he drive to where Chuck was supposed to be going? Wouldn’t he not want get caught?” Dutch asked aloud, now curious. 

“Not unless he wasn’t from the area.” Mike realized. “Or this part of town.” He knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it. “... Julie, do we still have that spare fusion battery for an order?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go get it. We,” he sighed loudly, “we need to talk to the Duke.” 

“Lord gimme strength.” Dutch bemoaned. 

"Texas is all the strength we need!" The man in question whooped, already blasting ahead to meet up with Mike, passing by Dutch in Whiptail and making the Burner skid.

“-- _To not strangle Texas._ ” 

  
  


\---

  
  


“... You’re seriously kidding me. Why is it that every time _you_ Burners come around here, you’re expecting _me_ to know everything like I’m a guru? I’m a _rockstar_ in case you forgot, _yeah!_ ” Ever a caricature, the Duke of Detroit flipped his staff and struck a pose. 

"Look. Do you or don't you know where Chuck is? We'll take the battery and leave if this is just going to be a waste of-"

“I didn’t say I didn’t know _something_! I’m just sayin’ I don’t have your scrawny little passenger.” 

Mike could feel his forehead starting to tense up. “Duke. Do you at least know who has this truck?” He showed him the image.

  
The Duke of Detroit leaned over, tilting his red sunglasses down his nose as he peered at the still captured images. “... No clue!” He shoved them back and swung around. 

“That’s it. We’re leaving!”

“Now wait, wait, _wait_ buckaroo! You didn’t let me _finish_ !” He tutted, sliding around to face Mike. “I said I had no clue about the _driver_ of that rinky dinky little jalopy. Something _that_ ugly and unrefined though is a commodity. Also, vehicles without mods are normally from a very _specific_ place down here. And your friend is _dead_.” 

Mike balked. “He- he is _not_.”

“If he’s in Pariah Town, he is!” 

“Para-what?” Dutch finally spoke up, holding onto the battery. Duke popped up beside him and exaggeratedly enunciated:

“ _Par-i-ah Town!_ I know you squares aren’t originally from here but, if that car’s come from _anywhere_ , it’s there. They mostly use trucks in that part ‘a town.” He smirked. “Now, a deal’s a deal.” 

"... Texas thinks he's lying." His tone unusually serious, unsure. 

"Excuse you! Why would _I-_ "

"Wait, why?" Mike looks over, eyebrows shot up again, not caring if he interrupted the Duke from another one of his rants. "There something you know about that place that we don't bud?"

“Listen, there are places down here you don’t go. Outlier Zone’s one ‘a them. Texas is tough, but that place’s bad news. Everyone knows ‘t not go over there. It’s past the Red Light zone.” 

“What’s so bad about a red light?” Mike tilted his head. The Duke belted out a laugh. 

“Oh _my_ , those Cadets really drove home the celibacy now didn’t they?!”

“That’s where the prostitutes work Mike.” Texas said, suddenly and inexplicably the smartest man in the room. 

“... and, what is that?”

“Ya gotta be kidding me.” Dutch uttered in disbelief. The Duke was losing it behind them. 

“Bless your innocent heart.” Texas chortled. “But seriously Tiny the Outlier Zone’s a no-go.” 

“Not if Chuck’s there. We can handle it!” Mike insisted. 

The Duke smirked and shook his head. “Your funeral Burners.”

When they were clear of the Duke’s “throne room”, Mike turned his attention to Texas, brow furrowed. Texas was so uncharacteristically _avoidant_ of the area, and that wasn’t like him at all. He didn’t know what was so bad about any of the things Duke laughed at him for not knowing, but as long as they had a lead, they had to go. 

Driving felt like an eternity. They’d been up for hours, scouring their part of the city for nothing. They had to go home, regroup and strategize how to go about this. Mike needed an energy drink as soon as they got back to the garage, even though he felt twitchier than usual. He was starting to understand Chuck’s anxiety a little bit better. 

They made it back, finally, getting out of their cars and headed upstairs. “Did the Duke know anything?” Jacob asked. 

“Yeah, we got a lead.” He walked over to the booth, where Julie was sitting in front of her screens. “Jules? You good?”

“Uh huh, just a bit exhausted. It’s been awhile since we pulled these late nighters.” She admitted. “But, go ahead. Tell me all.” 

“Duke says that the truck in the pics is the type that’s driven in some place called ‘Pariah Town’.”

“Outlier Zone.” Texas cut in, arms crossed. 

“Uh oh.” Jacob murmured, pausing. “He’s not pulling your leg?” When the hotheaded Burner shook his head, the older man winced. “Ahh boy. This is gonna be a tough nut ‘t crack.”

“What’s with this place anyway?” Mike was getting frustrated by the lack of information that clearly, he should be knowing but nobody else was filling him in on. “What’s got you two so scared of it?”

“The Outlier Zone’s the really bad part ‘a Motorcity.” Texas explained to the Burners. “It’s where all the Kane people go after runnin’ away. But they don’t got nothing, they gotta leave it all behind up there. They end up livin’ there and most of them don’t like us.” 

“Why?”

“Be’n scammed, bullied, manhandled, bad guy gang stuff. Everyone’s the underdog and we’re the top dogs with the awesome cars! You take apart the awesome cars and that’s some of their tickets outta there. Texas leaves Stronghorn alone for a minute, and she’ll be torn apart!” 

"Wah-Wah! Dude we need to think about what's happening to Chuck then, if he really is in that place!"

"Sorry Tex, but I'm with Dutch. We have to at least check around to make sure the Duke's info was legit."

“Not at night.” Jacob cut in. “Look I’ve never been that way myself, but I’ve heard stories. It’s worse after dark then the daytime: poorly lit an’ all that. Bandits tend to jump any gang cars or any transports caught near the place an’ what they do to the drivers is ah- it ain’t good.” He coughed.

“So. We have to wait ‘till morning?” Julie asked softly, realizing what Jacob was insinuating. When he nodded his head, they winced. 

“Unless you don’t wanna keep your cars, an’ your wallets, an’ your body parts.” 

Mike sighed, heel tapping against the ground. He didn’t like this. This- this _jerk_ had the advantage. He must’ve known that the Burners would be hesitant to follow him out there and risk getting stranded. Depending how big this place was, mind you, it was like finding a needle in a haystack. And they didn’t know the size of the haystack.

“We’ll go then at 0600. The earlier the better.” 

“You kids try to rest. You need to keep your wits sharp out there.”

“Texas is _not_ losing Stronghorn to some thugs.” 

“Oh you relax ya big baby, we’re gonna keep an eye on the cars!”

Mike ignored them, headed for his room to try and rest up a little bit. He could feel the insomnia creeping in: he was exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t rest. It kept circling back to the video of Chuck, and then threading to Chuck’s smile. Then, Chuck’s words about the _stalker_ . Guilt. So, so much guilt. He’d let this happen. He hadn’t listened to his buddy, his _boyfriend_. 

“Hey,” Julie called out behind him. “Mike?” He stopped and glanced over at her. “You, okay?” When he nodded, she frowned. “I know you’re kicking yourself for this cowboy. It’s not your fault. None of us took Chuck seriously and we all made a big mistake, it’s not just _your_ fault.” She walked up, and Mike was closed off, so she stopped. 

“... Jules. I- I’m better than that. Chuck trusted--”

“Chuck’s gonna understand. We’ll find him.” She lingered in the hallway. “We _will_. That guy’s gonna learn a thing or two about messing with the Burners.”

A small grin broke across Mike’s face. He unfurled, stepped over and kissed her head. “Get some sleep Jules.”

“You too cowboy. Night.” 

Julie left Mike alone, who let his smile slip away as soon as he was gone. He entered his room, sat down on his bed and buried his face into his hands. _We’ll find him. We’ll find him. Nothing bad’s gonna happen. You didn’t screw up. We’ll find him. We’ll find Chuck…_

\---

Chuck looked around the cabin, wondering how many seconds he had left before the torture/killing began. His eyes flitted about, he was hyperventilating at this point.

“Look at what you did to him, you gave him anxiety!” 

“I found him like that.”

“That’s what you say about every person we meet!” 

“Not Penelope.”

“Penelope is-- let’s be frank, she’s terrifying. And you are _not_ going to tell her a _word_ about this, understood?” 

_Who’s Penelope? One of their wives? I thought they were like, a couple with the way they were bickering._ Chuck tried to fixate on something. His eyes darted left and right, but the situation he was in the middle of right now was all he could think about. Come on, he had to think of a way out. He had to- he couldn't- he couldn't focus on anything and his grip on reality was slipping. _No, no, no! Keep it together!_

“... do I even bother? You never listen.” The scientist huffed as he pulled Chuck up to his feet. “C’mon, I better make sure this _lugnut_ didn’t give you a concussion.” 

Chuck wheezed, looking up as he was dragged back up to his feet. “I- buh, what?"

His gangly limbs trembled in the large hands that helped him make their way towards the other room. The door looked metallic and new, newer than the cabin walls at least. It was unlocked, revealing the inside of what looked like a medical ward: science equipment including bunsen burners, dismantled electronics and pieces of wiring with a bed tucked in the far corner.

Chuck was forcibly sat down, his long bangs pushed out of his face. He was only allowed a moment to catch his breath, his hair being pinned back to keep it from falling into place. A light shone into one of his eyes. The suddenness of it made him wince, but it at least was an annoyance that he could focus on. For now.

“Okay, good.” The man muttered and checked the other one. “Any headaches? Nausea? Light dizziness?” 

"N-no? No. " He managed to get out.

The man nodded, sighing and put away the light. “We both know you’re smart enough to not try and run off with Adam out there, so I’m going to undo your binds.” He took a scalpel, a little rusted at the handle and sawed through the zip ties. Chuck breathed a sigh of relief, the red mark in his one arm angry and sore. 

“Huh. You got the upgraded Deluxian prosthetic, didn’t you?” 

“How- how do you know about-?”

“Well when you design the bloody things, you learn how to recognize plagiarism.” He chuffed, eyes rolling. It was as if he expected Chuck to know that the fat older man in front of him was the head engineer who designed the very thing that allowed him to fit in. 

His attempt at pulling out the clips in Chuck’s hair derailed his train of thought. His eyes bugged out of his head as he fully realized who the man was. "I- what!? But wait, you're- you're alive? But they said doctor-!" 

“Yeah Dr. Wilfred Salazar was ‘murdered by an insane rebel who came up from Motorcity’ blah, blah. Surprise. I lived.” He smirked. “Kane may have _exaggerated_ my fate a little bit.” 

“Why?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. It’s more fun to know and watch you learn.” 

"But- but how did you get down here!? That's the main thing that's messing with me right now - besides being _kidnapped!_ "

"Listen, I'm as tired of his bullshit as much of you, but Adam’s been able to at least adapt."

"I was _tied up and stuffed inside a trunk!"_

“See? Adaptation. I was dragged down here.” He said, cracking open a can of cola. “Want one? They’re a bit flat but hey, don’t get the good stuff here.” 

“How can you drink when there’s a maniac outside of the door?!”

Wilfred paused. “Now that’s a little mean. He’s an idiot but he’s not a maniac.” 

_Oh my god he has stockholm syndrome._ “Am, I going to die?”

“Only if you don’t do what I say.” The engineer’s smirk was unnervingly charming. “I know Adam inside and out, and I know what makes him tick. If you follow my lead and don’t try anything, we’ll have you placed back with your friends as soon as our troubles are fixed.”

Chuck just bit his lip, glancing over at the doorway to make sure Adam hadn’t attempted to eavesdrop on their conversation. Satisfied that _no, didn’t seem like it,_ he turned his attention back to the present. Small victories seemed few and far between. He was at least going to take this tiny one since it may be the fastest ticket outta here. _Doesn’t mean I can’t stay suspicious as all get out about this proposition._ “What kind of troubles? I’m not some mad scientist able to crank out some super weapon for you guys to use if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I’ll be frank, we already got one mad scientist and he’s fucking done with that label.” He took a long slurp. “We need a programmer, and a good one. You have Kane running circles, so no wonder Adam chose you for the job. But given you’re a _Burner_ , keeping your friends from taking you back before we’re through is gonna be a helluva ride.” He shook his head. “ _Idiot_.” 

“I, see. What, did you need programmed, exactly?” Chuck asked hesitantly. 

“My associate needs assistance with some bugs he’s gotten from KaneCo implants: some half finished coding here, some malware there-- stuff like that’s not my forte. I’m an _engineer_ , not a programmer. Two very key things even though we’re both from the same Kane vein.”

“I’m _not_ from the same vein as Kane.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it. You basically threw yourself down here, we all heard the stories about the one Burner who never drives and doesn’t seem to do anything. But you and I _both_ know that Kane lost one of his best and brightest, especially when he gave you the arm you never had.” Chuck froze up, hand protectively going to his right arm. “Again, I recognized my own work. Kane’s inventive but he’s not _creative_ enough to hide that stuff from trained eyes like mine. Form over Function, that’s the Kane Way.” 

Chuck glanced down at his prosthetic, rubbing it. He’d modified it on his own, in his spare time, but none of the others knew he had Kane tech installed. It was just supposed to be a prosthetic, to make him fit in, do his part. What was a missing limb in Deluxe anyways? Just a hindrance that could be quickly corrected. You weren’t a broken cog because of it. So. When Kane Co’s IT saw that Chuck was gifted, they started making him install _unique_ features to his arm. He learned quickly what modifying prosthetics could do, and what they cost. 

In his quest to catch up with Mike, be the best, he’d lost his eyes. He’d lost some of his veins. Sometimes, if he didn’t feel constant anxiety about the others knowing, Chuck would wonder if he’d lost a little bit of his humanity too. He worried about how they’d react: after all, spyware was used for hacking and to _be_ hacked. He was a walking liability. What would happen if Kane figured out some way to remotely hack into _him_ when he was driving? Or handling sensitive equipment? He could hurt people. He _could--_

“Kid? Head out of the spiral.” Wilfred snapped his fingers. “I dunno what I just triggered in you, but get out of your head. I need you to listen.” 

Chuck jerked himself back into reality, looking up to Wilfred again. Blinking blearily towards the engineer, he shook away the static that was building in the back of his head, whispering every possibility and ‘what if’ scenario. 

“S- Sorry.” He stammered as Wilfred finally worked out the hair clips keeping his bangs back. Chuck rubbed the strands of hair between his fingertips. “But that doesn’t exactly answer my question: What _parts_ do I need to work on? I can assume that it’s more delicate work given the dent in the car-”

“The what?”

“-but I would at least feel slightly better about taking this crazy deal if I was told what he has exactly, er, tech wise. It uh, I’ll be able to know how or if it can be fixed.”

For now, he was resigning himself to be another hand in the kitchen. It was the safest bet, until he could find a way to get a signal again. Get the signal, contact Mike and the others, get outta here. So, he may as well, right ...? It’s not like he was making a superweapon or something! This still felt like a really, _really_ bad idea. But it wasn’t like he even knew where the heck they were.

“So. Work begins in the morning. I’ll speak to Adam and get a timeframe of when the work’s expected to be done, and when we can drop you off. Of course, if you try to escape, I can’t protect you from what Adam may do.”

Chuck gulped. “ _Okay_.” 

“Chin up. The days will fly by! Now, then, as for your sleeping situation, I think here will do. I don’t use that bed all that often! Oh, and I keep all my chemicals at my _actual_ work station so you can’t try to make chlorine gas or a bomb while I’m not around.” Wilfred smirked. “Just before you go messing with my stuff, sunshine.” 

“Yes sir.”

“Wilfred’s fine. Being called sir is making me feel like _I’m_ the one keeping you hostage. “ He chuckled, pushing himself onto his feet, tucking his stool back under its rightful place beneath his desk. “After all, we’ll be spending plenty of time together on this, so might as well get comfortable with one another sooner than later!” He beamed with yet another unnerving smile towards him before heading for the door. “Hopefully that idiot hadn’t decided to get into any other trouble without me babysitting his ass. Anyway. Make yourself at home!” 

_Right._ Home. Thanks for reminding him. Chuck watched as he shut the door. There was a clicking noise, _a lock_ Chuck realized, and then footsteps sounded. They headed away from it. Chuck sighed, and went to sit down on the bed, listening to it creak. He buried his face into his hands, exhaling long and hard. 

  
  


“Oh my god I’m _screwed_.” 


	3. Welcome to Pariah Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Burners arrive in the Outlier Zone/Pariah town. They find a gem in the middle of a wasteland; they run afoul of a Swarm.

* * *

First light came, and the Burners were in the driver’s seats. They turned the ignitions, and pulled out, headed for the Outlier Zone. Mike was antsy, he’d barely slept but he was used to that. “Everybody ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” Julie confirmed from her car. 

They rolled out, down the road and headed towards the location they were given by Jacob. Everyone was high strung, anticipating the worst of the worst. After all, this place was supposedly a den for the desperate. Who knows what would be in here? Mike couldn’t stop glancing to his right, expecting to snap out of whatever stupor he felt like he was in. He _wanted_ his buddy to be there, tapping away, asking him what sort of imaginary hellscape Mike had subjected himself to. 

_This was real. Chuck was gone. They needed to find him._

It was about a forty-five minute drive to the Outlier Zone. They passed through the Red Light Zone at the thirty-minute marker. The shimmering lights advertised ladies, Rated-R entertainment, and some occasional love hotels. Mike got an inkling why Texas had chastised him while the Duke laughed at him. He turned on the comms when they cleared the area, driving out into what looked like bleak, uninhabited wasteland. 

“Stay together, just in case.” Was his order.

They pulled into a tighter formation, rolling into the uncharted unknown. They really hadn’t been this way before, save for when Kane dropped his really big attacks. He had to admit, tactically, this place was as good as any to do it. There were a few entry points that weren’t heavily monitored and while no big battalions could get in without being spotted, a dozen Kane Bots or some cadets sent in to set up whatever Kane had cooked up could get in. Maybe they ought to patrol the area more when this whole mess was over. 

_“You guys seein’ this?!”_ Dutch’s voice crackled over the comms.

Mike nodded to himself. “Yeah, I see it.” 

He saw the remains of scrap metal, glinting silver in the weak light filtering down. There were _piles_ of them everywhere, haphazard, in various stages of decay. The massive cables leftover from the earlier days of the Dome’s construction weaved and broke through the earth like the backs of black-and-silver worms, creating hills to go up and over. Their tires kicked up clouds of dead ground, long starved of sunlight or water. So far, no Scavengers. Mike counted himself as lucky.

Then there it was. A faint dot on the horizon, towards the edge of the Dome. Then another. Then another. They were driving by _houses_ , and then in a minute or two in front of a _town_. There was a crumbling brick wall around the perimeter, the top lined with rusting barbed wire. There were stakes poking out of the earth surrounding a sign, jagged and splintered. One was mounted with a Kane Cadet helmet. Mike audibly gulped a little.

‘ _WELCOME TO PARIAH TOWN’_

‘Pariah Town’ was spray painted over the original name of the place: ‘Troy’. 

Mike gripped the steering wheel, tightly, inhaling and exhaling. “... Here goes nothing.” 

He led the Burners into the town limits, keeping to a tight formation. Eyes were less on the road, more on the buildings and denizens of this never-before-visited zone. And wasn’t this place a _sight_. Once upon a time, this could have been seen as the more primitive, original Detroit equivalent of Deluxe. There was evidence that this place had been higher class, the dilapidated houses and brick buildings showing their former wealth and worth. Demolished and repurposed Kane bots and H.O.U.N.Ds were interwoven in the framework of this town itself. The metal lined the walls and rooftops. Metalworking shops were seemingly at every corner of the town, even when they were only a couple miles past the gateway. It was a city that kept breathing life into itself. People walked the sides of the street in older, patchy, and dirty clothes. It was clear by eyeing them just how long they'd been beneath Deluxe. It became especially apparent when the citizens would either watch from afar, or scatter like roaches as the Burners drove by. There was fear in their eyes as the propaganda flowed fresh in their minds. 

They spent the first part of the day combing the area, getting the lay of the land. It was like a maze, full of cul-de-sacs and dead ends. Everyone’s nerves were high and slowly fraying as their surroundings seemed to blend together. Twice they had to turn around, several times they got turned around. One street they went down, Mike noticed a group of young adults around their age on the porch of a half-ruined McMansion (where did that name even come from?). They were talking, it was clear, but stopped and stared as the Burners rolled by. They looked vaguely like trouble. Mike was glad it didn’t look like they had cars.

_“We’ve been go’n in circles all day.”_ Dutch groaned around 2 ‘o clock. _“No way to tell who or where they’d even keep a truck. Anybody got any ideas on where to start askin’?”_

_“I say one of those smiths. They have to know something.”_

_“No, they’d probably keep their customer’s cars ‘confidential’ or something.”_

They turned yet another corner. Mike was trying to remember which street would take them out of the Zone before nightfall when Julie spoke up, something catching her eye.

 _“What’s that?”_

Across the road, over top of a large barb-wire and concrete fence was a large building of some kind. The wear and tear of the sign appeared next to a plasma gate: 

_‘REC CENTRE_

_WELCOMES ALL NEW’_

“Maybe we can get some info there.” Mike reasoned, pulling to a halt. There was an intercom on the wall, the red button catching his eye. He rolled down the window, and pressed it. “Uh, hello?”

_-Reason for visiting?-_ A voice crackled over the comm.

“Uhh, looking for information?” 

A pause. The gate powered down. _-Go ahead. Welcome to Motorcity!-_

“Huh. That was easy.” Mike murmured as he and the Burners pulled into the parking lot. Surprisingly, there were a few vehicles there: two trucks, and an ATV. But the trucks were both the wrong colors and had decals the other didn’t. He parked, and got out, looking over at the peeling bright blue metal door nearby. A hand painted ‘welcome’ was scrawled across it.

“So, I guess this place is as good as any to look for a ghost.” Julie commented. “It looks creepy enough.”

“This whole place gives Texas the heebie jeebies.” 

“C’mon guys,” Dutch sighed, “you’re turning into _Chuck_. There ain’t nothing that sketchy about this place!” 

They headed in, the doors pushing open with ease. Light pollution filtered in, as well as all the lights being on. It was a good sign, right? A well lit place meant less chance of an ambush. “Hello?” Mike called out, looking around at the rusting lockers and cracking marble. The silence was a bit unnerving. “Hello?” he called out again.

“ _Hello Mike_.” 

Everyone whipped around, eyes widening as they saw a pair of blonde-haired _identical_ girls holding hands. _“Hello Texas, Julie, Dutch._ ” 

“Who the-?” Dutch started, eyes widening significantly. 

_“Come play with us. Come play with us forever, and ever, and ever._ ” 

“Jee-!” 

“Holy-” 

“Texas is out.” He raised his arms in surrender. “Texas is _done_ . Chuck is probably _dead_ , and these two are probably _why_!” 

He tried to bolt for the door, but then Julie’s hand shot out and grabbed his collar. “Nuh uh, you’re _not_ abandoning us!” 

  
Mike had begun to nervously chuckle, a trait that was very much like their blonde friend. “Uhh, we’re not sure if we-” The two took a step towards them. “WHOA! Whoa! Easy!” 

“Charlotte! Sherry!” A man came charging around a corner behind them. “How many times have I told you two to not scare the visitors! Look at them, I’ll have to work through _months_ of therapy!”

The pair giggled and let go of their hands. “But dad it was--”

“-- Funny!” The right one finished for the left. 

“Are they laughing?” He motioned towards the Burners, and they glanced at them.

“I think one peed himself.”

“Did _not_!” Texas barked, huffing. “Texas wasn’t scared ‘a you!” 

“I am _so sorry_ for them, they think it’s _hilarious_ to reenact ‘The Shining’.” He sighed. “I sincerely hope you’ll forgive us. My daughters, Charlotte and Sherry are _quite_ sorry, aren’t they?”

“We’re sorry for scaring you.” They said, together. It still sent a shiver up their spines. 

“My name is Dr. Pauper, I’m the resident psychologist and therapist. You-- wait. You’re the Burners.” His eyes widened. “Hah! What a surprise, I wasn’t aware you knew about our program here!”

  
“We, didn’t.” Mike admitted. “We came here because we’re looking for someone, a--” He hesitated. “Friend of ours.” He opened up the holoscreen and showed the picture of the shyly grinning blonde, allowing the doctor to lean in, squinting at the screen before pulling away with a slight shake of his head.

“I am sorry, but I don’t recognize the young man. Perhaps someone else here may be of help? It wouldn’t hurt to try.” 

“There are other people here?” Julie’s eyes widened. 

“Well the Rec Centre is for those who are outsiders of Motorcity, those from Deluxe and even some of us not even from the inner Dome itself.” He adjusted his glasses and sipped his tea. The girls ran off, hand in hand and giggles echoing down the hall. “We teach classes here on self sufficiency for those who want to bolster their skills, or want to develop new ones. You’re free to ask the instructors when they’re free, we’ve all been in the community for quite some time.” 

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Mike looked relieved. Friendly faces in this place, that’s a relief. 

“Just down that hall, you’ll be able to go in the classrooms if they’re open and see for yourselves. Have a pleasant day, and if any of you are struggling with your present emotions, don’t hesitate to drop by and talk them through!” He left, loafers squeaking on the floor.

They walked in the direction Dr. Pauper pointed them down. Now further into the building, they began to see signs of life. Former Deluxians either still dressed in their (now scuffed) blue and white unitards, or in old clothes, eyed the Burners as they walked by. They were nervous; after all Kane painted them as dangerous. Mike didn’t blame them a bit. The first class they visited was being run by a woman called Paris Dimes, who was preparing for a lecture on “Individual Rights and Freedoms”. She looked at the photos, blinked, shrugged, and shook her head.

“No one like that has been seen around here, sorry.” 

The next two classes were the same. They were looping around now, headed back to the hallway from which they came when Texas stopped short and sniffed the air. “... You guys smell that?” 

Mike took a whiff and his mouth watered. _Herbs. Good ones._ “Smells like--”

“Bread!” Texas took off for the doorway where the smell was coming from. They followed after him, and poked in to see a woman standing before a stove, a fold out table covered in flour. 

“... Now let your bread rise for the next twenty minutes, and then yours will be ready to pop into the oven!” She smiled at the class, as warm as the smells coming from the room. She looked, oddly familiar to Mike somehow. Where had he seen her before-? 

She turned to look at the doorway, obviously expecting to see some new ex-Deluxians, but hesitated upon recognizing the Burners. Mike saw her face, and his eyes widened in recognition as hers did the same. 

“Commander Mina?” He blurted out in shock. Now all eyes were on him. 

“Well, well. Chilton! What a surprise!” She smiled happily. “Come in, we’re just about to take a break. You can have a sample if you want!” She motioned to a plate where there were several slices of bread laid across it.

“Texas would love some thanks!” He darted across the room, grabbing two and stuffing them both in his mouth. The sounds he made were almost inappropriate for the setting. Julie, Dutch, and Mike were a lot slower and much more polite, going to stand nearby as the people in the room filed out the door. Some eyed them as they passed by, still weary, still unsure. 

“Something tells me you guys don’t get much bread out where you’re living.” Mina spoke as she walked out. Mike almost choked upon seeing the frame-like prosthetic attached at her thigh.

“Oh.” 

“Stop staring Chilton, I thought you were the _polite_ one of the group.” 

He coughed and looked away. “Apologies ma’am.”

“Enough with the ma’am crap, we’re not in the Cadets anymore.”

“You were in the-?” Julie’s eyes widened. 

“Guys, allow me to introduce you to Commander Mina Jenkins.”

“Mina’s fine. Nobody up there ever called me ‘Commander Jenkins’. It was always ‘Commander Mina’ cuz’-”

“-- Nobody’s mean-a than Commander Mina!” Mike finished with a chuckle. 

A smirk broke out across the ex-Commander’s face as she suddenly barked; “CADET, ATTEN-HUT!” This elicited a Pavlovian Response from Mike: he immediately straightened his posture, stiffened, and saluted! Mina broke into laughter and slugged Mike’s shoulder twice. “That’s two for flinching Chilton.”

The Burners gawked and tried hard to not laugh as Mike nervously chuckled and blushed. “Yeah ah, heh. You got me.” 

“So. What’re you doing over here kid? I know you wouldn’t have known my ‘retirement’ was Kane’s cover up of me flying the coop, given how you reacted. I also know you guys are busy saving the city from our former handler, so you wouldn’t have come out here just to explore.” 

“You know me a little too well.” Mike sighed, brushed the crumbs from his jacket, and pulled up the image again. “We’re looking for our friend, he was kidnapped yesterday.” He opened the file, showing Chuck’s photo as well as the still captured images of the truck. “Do you know anyone who drives this?”

Her brow furrowed, and nobody but Mike, who had known his Commander for years, recognized the worry in her eyes. “... No, no. Never seen that truck around here before.” She dismisses. “I’m sorry you lost your friend, but we have a lot of scavenging groups in these parts. If they saw a chance to give Kane something he wanted, they’d throw their own mothers back upstairs.” She scoffed. “Might wanna investigate them, see what comes up.” 

“Right.” Mike sighed, but he was a little suspicious now. “Will do, thanks Mina.”

“Anytime Chilton. Us drop outs gotta stick together.” 

The Burners left the classroom, Texas stealing a couple more slices, sighing in absolute bliss as he ate. “We _have_ to replace Jacob with Mina. I could eat her cooking all day!” Dutch sighed. 

“Hey don’t be mean. Jacob _tries._ He _really, really_ tries.”

“Yeah but there’s trying, and then there’s trying ‘t kill us, right Mike? … Mike?” 

“Hm? Oh. Uh. You guys, get the feeling like they’re not telling us something?”

“Gee. What tipped you off?” Julie retorted. “The side glances, the freaked out stares?” 

“No that’s just, recent ex-Deluxian. They think we’re what Kane told them we are. No. I mean Mina. I know you guys don’t know her like I do, but I think she’s not telling us as much as she knows.”

“Maybe. I can try to dig into her upstairs. You think she had something to do with Chuck being kidnapped?”

“Call it a hunch.” 

They walked back outside. The daylight was still there, but beginning to slowly fade. They’d only have a couple more hours here before there was trouble. Too bad they weren’t that lucky though.

Laughter was the first thing they heard, it coming from the direction of their parked cars. There were a couple new ones in the lot: a jeep, a truck, and a dirtbike. They then saw seven people sitting on their cars! 

“What the-?” Dutch hesitated a bit. “I, guess they wanted somewhere ‘t sit down?”

“There are literally stairs.” Julie motioned back at the doors.

“Maybe they’re fans!” Texas reasoned. “Everyone in there’s nice, maybe a little spooked, but not bad! Especially Mina.” 

“Should’ve seen her up in Deluxe.” Mike shuddered. “Ehh, let’s just ask them to move. They probably didn’t know we’d be out here so soon.” 

They approached the group, who quieted down and watched them approach. As they got closer, Mike recognized them from before; they’d been sitting on the porch. The one with the bleached blonde hair though, her muscular physique definitely caught his eye. There was just something familiar about her face. He couldn’t put his finger on it though. 

“Hey, ah,” Dutch began, waving. “We gotta go guys. Y’ mind moving so we can be on our way?” 

They all eyed each other, then looked back at the Burners. It was the bleach blonde who spoke first: “It’s Texas right?” 

He perked up, nodding. “Ch’ya!”

The muscular woman grinned widely as she hopped off of Stronghorn’s hood, striding up to him. She kept her grin as she held out her hand. “Put ‘er there, one tough guy to another.” 

Texas started to grin, and took the hand, shaking it. “Hey you guys ain’t so--”

He was _yanked_ down by his hand, the woman’s knee raising and hitting Texas _directly_ in the face! Texas yowled in pain as he fell over, caught off guard by the dirty trick, and got a kick to the gut. Mina’s bread ended up all over the pavement. 

“Oh ya hate ‘t see that, _dumbass_ .” She sneered, laughing mockingly along with the others! “Oldest trick in the fucking book and you actually _fell_ for it!” The Burners reacted accordingly, brandishing their weapons as the group slid off of their cars and surrounded them. “Welcome to Pariah Town _bitches_.” She stepped over Texas, striding up.

“Texas, you good buddy?” The Burner nodded and gave a thumbs up. “What’s your problem?” Mike snapped, angry.

“Hah. Sheesh it’s been that long, huh Chilton? Fine then. Let’s make things clear: we don’t like gangs in _our_ turf. So get lost and consider your friend a fucking warning.”

“Who are you?” 

“Call me Wasp, and this is my Swarm.” She motioned to the six others, who had surrounded the four Burners.One tried to wave, but was swatted by one wearing a fringe jacket. “Now are you gonna leave, or are we gonna hafta beat the message into your sorry skulls?” 

Texas managed to get to his feet, wobbly but looked absolutely pissed off. He eyed the group, wiping blood from his nose, eyeing the odds up. Didn’t look good. 

“Look. You’re the ones who started it. We were leaving anyway.” Julie snapped. “We’re trying to find our friend--”

“Oh wah-wah Princess. You Burners think you’re really hot shit huh?” 

“Cicada’s right. We don’t fucking care.” Wasp sneered. “Last chance. Git, or get hurt.” 

“... We’ll ‘git’.” Mike glared at Wasp. “C’mon guys.”

They headed for their cars, but Texas _had_ to poke the nest one more time: “I coulda taken her if she wasn’t sucha dirty cheat!” 

The first punch came flying for the back of Texas’ head! Mike caught it, struggling with the strength coming from Wasp, and it was _on_ . The Burners were, as the gang’s name said, _swarmed_ by the group. Julie was fighting two girls, Texas two guys, Dutch a guy and a girl, and Mike was trading blows with Wasp. The leader barked:

“Honeybee, Cicada Killer, Paper, Hover, Straight Jacket 'n' Bumble-- _lay ‘em out!_ ” 

“Sheesh where’d you guys get yo’ names? So damn cheesy!” Dutch mocked but ended up with his legs swept by Paper. He barely missed rolling away from a stomp to the neck by Hover! 

Texas was fighting off Bumble and Straight Jacket, the latter being the same height as the Burner. “Oh wow, okay, hi, sorry! I don’t usually get into this sorta mess--” he caught a fist that Texas sent, and the Burner yelped when his knuckles almost _crunched_ against metal! “Yeah, plates! Cool huh? It’s where I got my gang name! Float like a Butterfly,” he dodged a chop and delivered two jabs to Texas’ bruised stomach, making the man fall. “Sting like a Bumblebee!”

  
“That’s _not_ how it goes ding-a-ling.” Straight Jacket slapped his palm in his face. “We’ve been over this! It’s “Float like a Butterfly, Sting like a _Bee_ ”!”

“... Well Bumblebee sounds cooler.” 

“Oh my god--”

“HEY!” Cicada Killer snapped as she swiped at one of Julie’s holograms. “HEADS IN THE GAME IDIOTS!” She swung her pick-axe at the images, but almost got hit by Julie’s boomerang. 

“Where did you even find a pick-axe?!”

“None of your business Princess Deluxe.” Julie was kicked in the back by Honeybee. “You won’t live long enough to know anyway.” 

“Uhhh--” 

“What?” Honeybee sneered.

“Girl I don’t think you should threaten them until _after_ they’re tied up.”

  
“Oh so what, I suddenly can’t make one liners?”

“I didn’t say that! It was a _suggestion_ . _Suggestions_ are made by _caring_ people to their f- WHOA!” Cicada Killer was hit by Julie’s boomerang that she _forgot_ worked like a boomerang.

The girl stood, panting, looking at the pair. “All right. Well. I’ve fought weirder.”

“ _EX-CUSE ME?”_ Both Honeybee and Cicada Killer yelled angrily. Lifting their pickaxe and wrist blades, they went for Julie together! 

Mike had his hands full, unable to help his friends and team members. Wasp was strong, she was good at fighting. He was having a hard time blocking her strikes and kicks. Then she tried to sweep his legs, something he recognized the style of immediately. She was a _cadet_ , and not only that but this was _specialized_ training! 

“Who _are_ you?!”

“Don’t matter anymore.” She went for a throat jab but her hand was knocked away by Mike’s. “What _does_ is me kicking your ass!” 

She got him against the hood of Mutt, and reared her arm back, about to hit him square in the face when there was a shot in the air!

The Swarm and Burners stopped, and Mike saw from around Wasp’s side his former commanding officer standing on the pavement with a plasma rifle in her hands. “Wasp. Desist.” She growled in an authoritative voice. 

To everyone’s shock, she obeyed, backing away! The others did the same, watching the dark haired woman. The blonde leader and instigator of the brawl spoke up:

“Mina--”

“ _All_ of you leave, _right_ now!” Mina barked, glowering up at the gang. She was clearly _not_ in the mood for reasons or excuses.

Wasp scowled, fists clenched but backed down. “... Yes ma’am.” She sneered and headed for a jeep. 

The others followed, getting in their vehicles, doors slamming and tires squealing as they peeled out of the parking lot. The Burners heaved heavy sighs of relief. _Too close, way too close!_

“You kids okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks Mina.” 

She nodded to Mike, and looked up at the sky, then at Texas. “You’d better get going back to the city. You won’t find anyone with your friend messed up like that.”

“Texas can-!”

“-- Go rest for a night.” 

  
“Yes ma’am,” Mike agreed. “We’ll be back tomorrow. But if you know about _anything_ , here:” He gave her his personal comm-line. “Just, let us know.” 

Mina looked down, nodded once or twice then straightened up. “Good luck Chilton.” Was all she said before going back inside of the building. 

The Burners rolled out of the Outlier Zone before nightfall, holding a tight formation until they were in familiar territory. Day 1 was a bust. But Mike wasn’t so sure that Mina was saying everything about what she knew… 


	4. Prototypes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck begins work on his coding for his captors. Something's not quite right.

Chuck ended up not sleeping for the majority of the night. He was staring at the ceiling with tired eyes, wondering if he already died and went to Hell for some reason. But it did end up coming to him at last, blessing him with sleeping in until the city lights peeked through the windows of his borrowed room. They were bright enough to mimic a morning sun to signal the time of day. It disoriented him for a moment; he forgot everything that happened and panicked as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to the door of the bedroom. Where the hell was he?! 

Wilfred was in the kitchen, holding a plate of what seemed like breakfast up to the open microwave door. He paused, swiveling his head over to see Chuck's confused gaze. "Oh," he said, halting his movement and changing course to put the plate full of breakfast food on the kitchen table. "Good! You're awake! I was worried Adam accidentally gave you a concussion from throwing you in the trunk. Wondered if you went into a coma or whatever with how long you were out."

Chuck blinked, everything slowly coming back to him (much to his rational disappointment). "Yeah… didn't get much sleep."

"Mm. You get used to it."

The large engineer took a long sip of his coffee, setting the mostly empty cup down on the table as well, taking a seat. Adam was nowhere in sight as Wilfred went about his own business, not bothering to tell Chuck where the nightmare of a man was or when he'd be back. Chuck didn't know if he'd prefer Adam or Wilfred's company after the discussion he and the latter had last night. His smile reminded him of the Duke (of all people!). It made him wish he'd scowl or sneer at him instead of smiling calmly like he was in control of everything…

_'On the other hand he wasn't the one to kidnap me in the first place!'_

Without a word, knowing of what he'd have to do after eating, he dug into the small breakfast he was given: pigeon eggs and cold bacon. Not the best thing he'd ask for, but at least a lot more edible than whatever Jacob would try to get them to eat.

“Uhh. So, where’s-?” He decided to check, ever cautious.

“Adam’s just out getting more eggs.”

As if on cue there was a loud raucous string of cursing from the side yard. Something about _“FUCKING PIGEONS!”_ and _“RAT BASTARDS I’LL SHOOT YOU DOWN!”_ being the most eligible out of his insults. 

“He oughta get at least a few.” 

Chuck gave a wide eyed stare as, a minute later, Adam stormed in. He was holding a small basket with a couple eggs. He was also covered in grey feathers. “... We should cook one.” He snarled, putting the basket on the counter.

“We are _not_ cooking Julio!” 

“We should cook _both_.”

“Do you want breakfast to only be cold bacon because I can make it be cold bacon! You bitch about oatmeal--”

“It’s slimy,”

“-- about cereal,”

“It’s soggy,”

“About pancakes!”

“They just don’t taste good.”

“And you want _eggs_ but chicken eggs are worth their weight in _chrome_ and so’re pigeons so unless you want to start skipping breakfast, you do _not_ . Lay a _finger_ . On the _pigeons_ .” He paused, glaring down at Adam. “ _Sit back down!”_

Chuck squeaked as he pointed at the young man, who had been stealthily trying to stand up from his seat. He settled back down, cramming the pieces of bacon into his mouth. 

“Now I have to go and get groceries and gas, because _you_ took the truck on a _joyrun_ yesterday and picked up an extra mouth to feed.” He grabbed a list from off of the fridge, skimming it with his eyes. “I left the kid a list of the programming he needs to do at the workstation. Make sure he doesn’t leave unless he needs to piss, shit, or eat.” 

“Yessir.” Adam grumbled, arms crossed.

“Y’ damn _right_!” Wilfred yelled over his shoulder, waving his list as he walked out the door. 

That left Chuck alone with his kidnapper. 

Adam ate his own breakfast, cooking up the egg himself (still cussing out the pigeons under his breath). He stayed silent the whole time, not saying a word to Chuck, who sat there with his empty plate. 

“... You heard him.” Adam gruffed after he finished his breakfast. “He left you a list. Get going on it.”

Chuck chose the path of least resistance: he obeyed, gingerly standing up. He went over to a desk, crack and splintered with a barstool seated in front of it. Some holo screens were up and running, flashing with errors and warning symbols. _Great_ . Chuck briefly looked down at the sloppily written handwriting and managed to get a sense of what he was doing: **_‘isolate all the bugs, viruses and shit. Do we need firewalls upgraded first or salvage the code first?’_ **

Guess he was running diagnostics today.

As he sat down, Adam sat on the couch, looking at Chuck like a hawk readying itself to soar down and pluck it's prey from the comfort of solid ground. Now _that_ mental image encouraged the blonde to get to work! He opened a few holo-screens, seeing the massive flow of information and coding he was being supplied. It wasn’t helping with Chuck’s theories of them secretly trying to get him to troubleshoot whatever doomsday device they wanted up and running. The only blessing to this situation was knowing that they must not know _all_ of what they were doing, given the multiple errors on his screens. 

Every so often as he worked, those eyes sinking into the back of his head would itch an urge Chuck to look so much that he couldn't resist. He’d meet those cloudy grey eyes, still boring into him. They watched his every move, even if Adam probably didn't understand anything that he was working on. And every time he stole a glance back, Chuck’s paranoia and questions increased in numbers:

_Was this guy just waiting for Chuck to make a mistake, or a perceived mistake?_

_Did he work for a gang, for Deluxe as an undercover operative, on his own?_

_How did he know about Chuck for that matter?_

_Did this guy ever take off his hat?_

_Did he blink even once_?! 

Actually, regarding that last thought: Adam had the look of a serial killer in one of those horror movies Texas found. _That_ comparison his brain made was making it extremely hard to focus!

It was hours of him being forced to deal with this predicament, through a bathroom break (that offered him little security and no, no escape route) and lunch (more eggs) before Wilfred finally returned. He had bags full of groceries, a light sheen of sweat on his brow. Dispensing of the bags in the kitchen, he left them for later as he went over to the chair and plopped himself down across from Adam. The redhead raised his eyebrow, only sparing an unimpressed glance at the large man before looking back towards Chuck. 

The return of Wilfred though allowed the Burner to relax a bit. He already felt a decrease in anxiety; it was less likely Adam would decide it wasn't working fast enough and dispose of him because, why wouldn't this crazy jackass do shit like that?

"You took a while."

"Well some of us don't drive - and don't drive like _maniacs_ for that matter!" Wilfred huffed, digging into one of the bags he brought with him to his seat as he grumbled. He pulled out some questionable aged looking jube jubes, popping a few into his mouth before continuing: "Just don't be an ass for once and take this coffee for me. My feet are killing--" He halted suddenly. The other two men immediately took notice as his shoulders bunched and he was barely containing a groan of frustration. 

Adam was the one to speak. "Wilfred?"

"I- I forgot it. Of fucking _course_ my stupid scatterbrain forgot it!" He muttered. 

"Uh-- is it something important?" Chuck hesitantly asked. He only got a long sigh from the tired man. "Sorry--"

" _No._ No it's- it's not _important_. Just some coffee I've been needing to restock before the one we have is gone. Hard to come around 'round here and all…" 

“It’s at Millers?” Adam spoke up before Chuck could say anything.

“Yeah.”

“I got it.” Adam got up, grabbing the keys from the counter.

“Adam--”

“I said I got it. ‘Kay? Don’t worry. Need to go out for a bit anyway. Keep an eye on Blondie, it’s your turn.”

Wilfred sighed heavily. “Yeah.” 

The door slammed shut and the man went into the kitchen with the bags. There was an urgent knock suddenly. Wilfred sighed again, _heavily_. “Let me guess; he forgot something to barter with.” He trudged over to the door and swung it open-- “Oof!” 

Chuck looked down and saw a small girl clamped around Wilfred’s leg! “Nan what the-?!”

“Mama said I could come visit!” 

“She did. Did she?” He sounded absolutely _done_ with that fact. “How long did--” he stopped her from bolting towards his laboratory. “-- did she say that you could stay?!”

“‘Till she gets back from picking up mommy!” 

“Of _course_ she did!”

“Yeah!” The girl paused, Chuck catching her eye and she turned around. “You’re new! My name’s Nancy. Uncle Wilfred calls me Nan though!” 

“Er, hi, Nancy. I’m Chuck.”

“C’mon kiddo, don’t bug him.” Wilfred muttered, and chased after her as she went for the table. “Hold on, hold on! Let me clean up!”

“Uncle Wilfred guess what? Guess what?” 

“Hm?”

“C’mon guess! Guess!”

  
“What?”

“I learned about _bugs_ today! Did’ja know that bugs are older than _dinosaurs_?” She followed the man as he moved a rusting bunsen burner out of the six-year-old’s reach. “And- and spiders eat over 2,000 insects a year? And- and you know what else? Honey bees have hair on their eyes! They have hairy eyeballs!” As she spoke, the normally messy scientist was cleaning up his haphazard work area, nodding when appropriate to and acknowledging the small girl’s fact-dump, almost having to dance around her as he juggled all the (probably) dangerous implements and tools in his arms. He made quick work of storing them in the closet for safe keeping. 

"That sounds pretty fascinating, Nan." He feigned interest to humor the young girl, though the smile sneaking its way onto his face was genuine. "Bet it must be itchy for those bees. Always having hair on their eyes. I could barely handle my own eyelash poking me in the eye without tearing up a bit." And he poked her on the forehead as he spoke, eliciting a quick, happy giggle from her. Quickly shoving a beaker of forgotten chemicals out of her reach as she made a grab at it, curious of its contents. 

"So," he started, trying to keep her distracted so she'd stop making him run around his makeshift lab to keep her from hurting herself. "Anything else you've learned today? Or are you just distracting me so I don't make you do your homework?" 

By the way her cheeks puffed out, that would be a yes. 

"Come on. The quicker we do this the quicker I'll get the science kit out for you." He ruffled her hair as he squatted down, smiling more as he poked a still puffed up cheek. "Even 'lil genius' need to do homework."

“Yeah.” She pouted, but eyed the blonde man. “... Who’s that?”

“Oh just a friend.” Wilfred dismissed. “He’s helping me with a project.”

Nancy nodded, because _of course_ it made sense to a kid. Chuck couldn’t help but notice how comfortable she was there. She must have been dropped off a lot… 

“Less daydreaming, more coding please.” Wilfred’s voice made Chuck lurch and he quickly resumed. “Okay Nan, what do you wanna do?” 

“Can we build the-- the roller coaster again? Please?” 

“Sure.” He went over to the TV stand, opening the door, and pulled out-- _was that a tub of building bricks?!_ He hefted it over and set it down, unscrewing the lid. “The pieces stay on the table this time please.”

“Okay!” 

“After this you need to start doing your homework. I know your mama dropped you off with some if she’s picking up your mom.”

“Yeah. Next time can we build a rocket?”

  
“We’ll see. I’m actually fond of that pool noodle you’ve been eyeballing.” 

Chuck was taken aback by how kind Wilfred was being. It was like he totally changed from a sort-of asshole kidnapping compliant to, well, _this_. He was pretending like Chuck wasn’t even there, talking to the small girl and listening to her rant and rave about different things she’d read that day or how hard her math was as she busily clicked together the bricks. He almost forgot, again, to keep coding. When Wilfred looked up, he pretended he hadn’t been watching for the last fifteen minutes. Eventually, an hour in, whatever they were building was completed. 

“Is it gonna work?”

“Let’s see.” Wilfred pressed a button, and Nancy squeaked in delight when the little holographic rollercoaster successfully went over every dip and loop. “Better than last time, I’d say!”

“I’d say too!” Nancy nodded affirmatively. 

“Anyways, Nan, I’m gonna unpack my groceries. Can you disassemble the blocks for me please?”

“Okay Uncle Wilfred!” 

She only succeeded in doing half of it before noticing Chuck again. Well, he _was_ something new in her familiar environment, that was apparent. He tried to ignore her, not wanting to run afoul of Wilfred. Unlucky as ever though, Nancy chose on her own to stop raking the blocks into the bin and walk over to watch what he was doing. She stood silently for a long moment, eyes staying fixated on the blue screen where the ones and zeros flashed by as Chuck’s fingers darted across the keys. 

“What’s that?” She finally asked, pointing at the screen. 

“Oh! Uh, this? The keyboard, or what I’m doing!”

“The keyboard, silly!” 

“Ah yeah. It’s just, for coding.” 

“What’s coding?” 

“Writing computer programs.”

“What’s a computer program?” 

“A directive to a computer program to perform a specific task.”

“A direction? Like you tell it stuff to do?”

“Well I have to write up the code first so it knows what to do.”

  
“Like instructions!” Nancy nodded. 

Chuck was stunned. She was actually interested in what he was talking about? _Him_? “Y- yeah! Like instructions!” 

“So you type in all those numbers an’ it’ll tell you what to do?” 

“Well it’s, more _complicated_ than that--”

“How?” 

“Well it involves tasks such as: analysis, generating algorithms, profiling algorithms' accuracy and resource consumption, and the implementation of algorithms in a chosen programming language--”

“Uhm,” Nancy tugged at his sleeve, “Mister Chuck?”

He sighed. “It’s boring, I know.”

“No I just don’t understand all those big words. Can you tell me in little English?” 

Chuck blinked a few times. “Uhh, simplify it? Yeah, so uh,” he looked back at the screen and glanced to see what Wilfred was doing. He seemed to be distracted. “You take instructions, like these,” he pointed at the paper, “And then you translate it into a language the computer understands since computers don’t communicate like humans do. They communicate in a language called binary: it uses 0s and 1s.” He pointed at the screen. 

Nancy’s eyes widened in awe. “You can talk to computers?!” She gasped. 

“Well, sort of.”

  
“That’s so cool! I wanna do that!” 

“Maybe someday--” he paused. “-- Or here. C’mere.” He pulled her chair a bit closer. “See what this says?” He pointed out the words. “Press these keys for me: W,” she tapped it, “2,” she tapped it, “the little mouth thingie,” she tapped it, “and then a 2 again.” 

She did and gasped when the screen flashed and numbers appeared. “I coded! Uncle Wilfred I coded stuff!” 

“Oh did’ja?” Wilfred snorted. “Well good. Did you finish your homework?”

“Yeah! Wasn’t _that_ hard.” 

“Well can I check it?”

She let out a short gasp. “Wait I wanna double check it first! Wait!” She ran over to the table and doubled over her answer sheet, furiously scribbling. Wilfred chuckled a bit, reaching over to ruffle her hair. 

Chuck, meanwhile, felt absolute _whiplash_ from this man. What was his deal? Should he be afraid of him, angry at him, or pity him because they both were kidnapped by a clearly deranged lunatic?! 

“Less gawking, more typing.” Wilfred told him with a slow sip of his mug. 

Nancy paused in her furious scribbles, looking back over at Chuck. “What’s he doing?” 

“Homework too.” 

“Grownups do homework? What kinda homework?” 

“Just homework that’s gonna help Uncle Adam.”

Now _that_ caught Chuck’s attention: _Uncle Adam_ . Whoever this girl was, she was a niece of either man (probably Adam) and was maybe his only way of getting information outside of this hellhole if she came and went freely. Chuck turned back to coding, but was trying to think of a way to convey to Nancy that he needed help. Although there also was a variable that he couldn’t be sure of: _family loyalty_. Would Nancy’s caregivers be loyal to his captors? 

An **‘** **_error’_ ** message broke him out of his thoughts and he stifled a dismay whine. _Fuck_. Now he had to start all over! He glanced back over his shoulder, back at the small girl and Wilfred, sitting at the table and watching Nancy work. 

If the Burners knew where to look (somehow), if he could _just_ get Nancy to agree to help him, bribe her or convince her to tell someone he was there he’d have a chance of getting out of this. 

.... Huh. Wait. That line of code was _familiar_ . It looked shambled together, but there were hints of some familiar script that he’d seen before. Where though? Chuck checked again over his shoulder, making sure Wilfred was still distracted before isolating that line and began to go over it. Someone who had the basics of programming tried to create a command that would allow-- _that was for a machine arm_. Why did they need a command for a machine arm?! 

The more Chuck rifled through, the more questions popped into his head. These were all unoriginal lines of code, they were Deluxian but looked older than any of the algorithms he’d been trained on. Outdated code, bugged software to something controlling _machinery_. What was this…? 

“Bye Uncle Wilfred!”

“See you later Nan.” Wilfred called out as the door slammed shut. The man made sure she was gone before striding up behind Chuck. Crap, crap, crap! “How’s it coming?”

“Ahh, it’s ah-- a little more _messy_ than what I’m used to!”

“We're under Deluxe. That’s normal.” 

“Well when I say _messy_ I mean there is a _lot_ of debugging and script rewriting I’ll need to do-!”

“Kid.” Wilfred’s voice took a stern stone, “I don’t give a _shit_ about what you need to do. _Get it done._ ” He turned and went back over to the kitchen. “Adam will be home in an hour and a half. We’ll both want to hear about your progress. Don’t even _think_ about bullshitting us, I know enough about it to know if you are.” 

Chuck audibly gulped. _“Got it.”_ He turned back to the screen, almost feeling his gaze steady on him. 

“Good. I hope you like coffee cuz’ I’m craving a cup.” He started up the machine. “And I always make a pot.” 

“Oh… uh, no thank you! I prefer soda actually!” 

“Hm. What kind?”

“... Orange?” 

“Well lucky you, I’ve got a couple cans left.” He pulled out the drink and lobbed it directly at Chuck! “Catch.” 

He shrieked and ducked the throw, it missing and hitting the ground, thankfully not exploding. “Are you crazy?!”

Wilfred was belly laughing. “Jesus how’d you even survive being a Burner this long if you can’t catch a fucking can?!” 

_“Well normally they’re not thrown at my head!”_

“Ahaha! Ahh, kid,” Wilfred snorted, “You’re too funny. Here.” He put the last can next to him on the desk and retrieved the other, slightly dented one. “Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.”

“... Is Nancy your niece?”

“Mm? No. She’s just a friend’s kid.”

“Oh so she--”

“I would stop asking questions right there kid. You’re _not_ going to say a _fucking_ word with Nancy around. Are we clear? I’m watching you.”

Just like that, his voice got dark and dangerous again. “Y- yeah, no! No! I was just _curious_ , that’s it! That’s all!”

“Uh huh.” Wilfred left it at that, pouring himself a mug and started to pull out some squash, bell pepper, zucchini and some wilting herbs out. “Hope y’ like a ratatouille kid. We’re eating it for the next week.” 

“Next week?”

“Vegetables don’t grow down here all nice like near the Eastern Gate so you make ‘em last.”

Chuck’s eyes widened slightly. _They weren’t near the Eastern Gate._ His first clue! He didn’t pry though, he was smart enough not to. He’d have to think very, _very_ carefully about how to go about digging up more information. 

The smell of sauteed herbs and onion filled the air, making the young man’s mouth water slightly as he tried to get back to his programming. In no time flat, his soda was done, dinner was done, and Adam was coming through the cabin’s front door. 

Wilfred was the first to say something: “Did you get it?” 

“The shitty coffee? Yeah.” 

He sighed in relief. “Finally, _finally_ you stay on task! I think a pig flew.” 

“... I didn’t see any pigs in the sky.” Chuck had to bite down a snort at Adam’s deadpan.

“It’s a figure of speech, Adam. If it sounds too stupid to be true, normally it is. Speaking of speeches, times up kid. Show us whatcha got.” 

“Uhh, now?”

“Yeah. _Now_.” 

Both men took a seat on the couch, facing Chuck’s workstation. He began to stammer, trying to come up with a very quick list in his head. It didn’t help that Adam's arms were crossed and he was leaning forward with a scary look on his face!

“Kid? Breathe. Just take your time telling us, so long as you tell us the truth.” Wilfred, unlike his roommate, was relaxed: grinning, one leg crossed over the other as he slouched. 

“Ah, right! Right!” Chuck cleared his throat, took a deep breath in and opened the lines of code: “I’ve managed to isolate about forty-seven different lines of code that are corrupted. Given the lines and the age of it, it’s going to be a bit of an issue fixing them directly. The algorithms don’t support whatever hardware these are operating anymore. So, it’s better if I go back and rewrite the code as best as I can, in the most severely affected places which are these six: “ he pulled the images up on screen. “Once those are rewritten, the major functioning errors should be ceasing and the firewalls will be working, meaning this won’t happen again. They’d still have to be updated though, but only annually.” 

Wilfred let out a low whistle. “ _Damn_ . I only got around to finding _one_ buggy program in,” he paused and counted on his fingers, “three months! Not bad kid.” 

“I, really?” 

“Yeah I’m not a computer man. I can _understand_ them, I can _build_ the hardware but this stuff’s your thing.”

“If I can say something?”

“As long as it’s not about my mother.” 

Chuck took a small leap of faith that this wouldn’t get him shot; “I noticed this line of code here,” he opened it up, the numbers repeating on screen, “and I couldn’t help but notice that the language for this is for a machine’s arm. As in a _Deluxian_ _Robot Factory_ arm. But it’s old too, outdated by at least three years! I-- I don’t understand why this is in here.” 

Both Wilfred and Adam shared a look. “Well.” He sighed. “You know how Kane is obsessed with Form over Function?”

“ _Wilfred_.” Adam snapped. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“Oh please, he thinks we’re working on a doomsday weapon or something ridiculous like that. Right kid?”

Chuck blanked. “Uhhh--”

“See?” He turned back to Adam.

“He’s a liability.”

“He’s not trying to run away like the _last_ three--”

“-- _yet --”_

“And maybe if he knows, he won’t be _itching_ to try and escape now wouldn’t he? Besides the more he fixes this, the more he’s going to start asking. I said nothing because it’s your medical bullshit but come on. He brought up _the arm_ Adam.” 

The redheaded man let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “You wanna know so fucking bad, kid?” 

“I ah--”

“Here you go.” 

Adam shed his jacket, wearing a long sleeved shirt underneath, and reached down to take _that_ off too. Chuck squeaked and began to sputter, flustered, covering his eyes. 

_“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”_

“Don’t be a baby. We’re all men here.” Wilfred snorted.

Chuck peeked through his fingers as Adam removed his shirt, and for a moment wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Then he was removing his gloves, which brought Chuck’s attention to Adam’s arms and that’s when he finally saw it:

_“Oh my god.”_

Adam’s arms were _both_ bionic! The metal of the prosthetics shimmered in the living room’s light, glinting with hints of rust and decay. But Chuck could see, clearly, the blue and white _Deluxian_ colors: the white was chipping away, cracked and peeling, but the blue plasma powering the prosthetics glowed eerily between the cracks. It shone between his joints and in the ports attached to _both_ of his shoulders, running down to his sides. 

_“Oh my god…”_

“You already said that kid.”

Chuck choked. “That-- _I’m rewriting the script for those?!”_

“Yep.” 

“I- I can’t do that! That’s _completely_ out of my expertise! I--”

“Yet,” Wilfred lifted a finger, interrupting him again, “You were able to find how many bugs again?” 

“F- forty seven.”

“Exactly. My designs built these, but the coding wasn’t made to last. It’s still using the commands from the Bot Factory, which expired-”

“- three years ago.”

“Precisely.” 

“You want me to fix the programming on _his_ arms?”

“Yep.”

“Wh- why? How am I supposed to?!”

“How about you stop asking _fucking obvious_ questions about the reason _why_ , and do your job?” Adam sneered, taking two steps forward and towered over Chuck. “Unless you want to meet with the three _other_ failed programmers who couldn’t do their job?” 

Chuck almost fell out of his chair, leaning backwards and away from the clearly pissed off man. “Adam, heel.” Wilfred sighed, scratching his chest carelessly.

“I’m not a _fucking_ animal.”

“You’re acting like one and scaring our programmer into an early grave!”

Adam sneered, backed up, and away from Chuck. He put on his shirt again and pulled on his gloves. Wilfred sighed, watching him do so. Chuck was very sure he was two seconds away from a heart attack. 

“I’ll-- I’ll see what I can d- do.”

“There’s the spirit.” Wilfred got up with a grunt, sighing and cracking his back. “Supper’s on the table. Let’s eat.” 

Reluctantly, Chuck joined them, seated the farthest away from the door (obviously) and was served a small helping of the layered vegetables. He ate, slowly, still shaking a bit from how close he’d been to probably getting his head smashed in. 

_‘Adam has two prosthetics that look like the old designs.’_ He realized after his fourth bite. The ones they showed him.

_“See son, Deluxe has taken these shoddy old prosthetics you might have seen in your textbooks and upgraded them!” The clinician motioned to the ‘before’ and ‘after’ images: one showed a garishly metallic arm painted with the standard colors, while the other newer model showed a very normal, very complete arm. “No docks need to be installed! We can match to your skin color, your birthmarks or freckles and it’ll be like it was always there!”_

_Chuck looked down at the metal attached to his stump. It was basic, it made him an eyesore. He just wanted to blend in, do his job, and do it well enough to finally achieve normalcy in his life. “Are-- are you sure the department can afford that?” He was still hesitant. They cost so many credits._

_“In a year these will be standard for all Deluxians with defects such as yours! What better way to feel like your best self than to look like your best self?”_

Adam had come down before Chuck’s own prosthetic arm was considered new tech. _Eight years_ . That meant Wilfred and Adam had been down in this area longer than any of the Burners, the Weekend Warriors, _a quarter of Motorcity_. 

Eight years ago. That was when the first prototypes for those things were being tested… Chuck eyed them again. The coding was for the assembly line’s mechanical arms. They were based on Wilfred’s designs.

_Form over Function_. 

  
Was it just a coincidence that they ended up down there together? Or, was there something _else_ they weren’t telling Chuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cherry, while writing the breakfast argument: "it's like watching your parents fight before divorcing and Chuck is the kid".


	5. Trucks and Drop Outs

“One hundred and twenty one… twenty two… twenty three…” Wasp grunted as she did her sit ups. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. “Twenty four… twenty five…” 

“Keep going babe, you just hit the two minute marker.” Honey piped up from where she was lounging on an old leather sofa, reading something on the holoscreen she had open. 

“Hah! Twenty-eight… twenty nine… thirt-”

There was a tremendous explosion that shook the Swarm’s Hideout’s foundation! Honeybee barely moved, but did look up. Wasp stopped, and huffed as soon as the ground stopped moving. “‘Kay then. Thirty… thirty one-”

“UGH! ¡Estúpida vaca! You wrecked my flat iron!”

“I didn’t touch your stupid flat iron, Cicada! Do you think I’d actually need it?” 

“I’m gonna make you pay, you- you- _desagradable puta de dos dólares!”_

“... Oh I _know_ that was an attack on me. How about you translate it and say it to my face, bitch?!” 

“How about I whack you with--”

“E- _NOUGH!”_ Wasp sprang up, panting and sweaty. “Both of you bitches shut the everloving _fuck_ up and label your shit! I am _not_ going to listen to your stupid bickering another goddamn minute!” 

Both Paper and Cicada eyed each other, then looked back at the pissed off Wasp. “Sorry boss.” They said together.

“Go fight it out in the back or some shit. Lemme finish my workout.” 

Two voices left, bickering at each other in a mixture of English and Spanish. With a shake of her head, the woman sat back down and motioned to Honey to continue. A couple taps and Wasp was back at it. “... thirty- two, thirty- three, thirty- four--”

“-- You cannot keep eating my food, moron!”

“Well so-rry, ya snooze ya lose!”

Wasp let out a growl from somewhere deep in her throat. Hover was smirking at a bereaved Straight Jacket, who threw his arms up in the air and motioned to the fridge across from them:

“It’s not a fucking _‘snooze and lose’_ thing! It was in the fridge!”

“So? Coulda been anyone’s!”

“In my tupperware!”

“We borrow it all the time!”

_“It had my name on it!”_

“You know I’m dyslexic!” 

Before throats could be grabbed, Wasp had gotten up and stood before the men, brows furrowed. “Both of you _idiots_ can kindly shut the fuck up too!” They both looked at her. “Hover, keep your hands off of shit that’s not yours! And Jacket that chicken salad he ate was literally in the back of the fridge for almost a month. I’m surprised Hover isn’t dead on the floor right now so don’t you go and _boo-hoo_ over leftovers you forgot until you saw Hover eatin’ them! Can I go back to my workout or do I need to slam some sense into you lunkheads?!”

“Sorry boss.” Both looked down, sheepish. 

“... I’ll go see what the hell Bumble’s doing.” Straight Jacket turned away, disappearing further into the building. Hover shrugged.

“Well I’m gonna go tune up Hornet! Later!” 

Splitting apart and going their separate ways, Wasp huffed and returned to the mat, sitting down again. “Aight. Where was I?”

“Thirty-four babe.”

“Thanks.” 

Wasp twisted her neck to work out the kinks that had appeared, and exhaled, beginning again. “... thirty - five… thirty - six… thirty - seven … thirty - eight… thirty nine-”

A third explosion sounded and rocked the base _again_. “GODDAMMIT!” Wasp sprang up and stormed around the couch, headed for the shop where the Swarm kept their Special Project. 

She stormed down the hall, past the still fighting girls, heading for the last door that was decorated with homemade “Warning”, “Stay Out”, “Danger” and “THIS MEANS U” signs plastered across it. With a deep inhale, she practically _slammed_ it open and marched onto the shop floor.

“WHAT. THE HELL? IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” 

The parties responsible for the explosions stopped and stared down at the pissed off Wasp. “S- sorry boss!”

“I’ve been hearing that a whole freakin’ _lot_ today! The hell is Butterfingers doing now Bumble?!” 

“She’s--”

“Working on the new Plasma PowerCell I managed to snag from one of those Genesis Pod thingies!” Like a gopher, a girl with twin braids stuck herself out of her pet project, grinning a mile wide. “Has a few kinks, but I’m tweaking them!”

“So what the hell’s causing the booms?!”

“That’s the Plasma PowerCell backfiring. She’s got a bit of a kick to ‘er I’m trying to lame!” 

Wasp sighed, muttered something under her breath about _stupid EXO_ and _stupid Butterfingers_ but managed to keep a level head. 

“Can it wait for fifteen minutes while I finish my goddamn workout? Fifteen. Minutes. Of peace! I’d _love_ that!” She turned, hands up in the air and left the shop, slamming the door behind her. 

She marched over to the living room floor, sitting down again and huffed. “Aight. Honey? Where was I?”

“... I forgot.” 

The cursing could be heard by all parties for a few seconds. 

\---

“Jeeeez!” Butterfingers - rather ‘Butterfly’ as her codename went - rolled her eyes as Bumble grimaced. “What’s got Wasp’s leggings inna bunch today? Well more than usual.”

“Those Burners that usually stick to the main city came sniffing around yesterday.” 

“Hold up! _The_ Burners?!” 

“I know!” Bumble gushed. “I got to fight _Texas_ , it was incredible!”

“... So why’s she mad?”

“Well they’re a gang and they came onto our turf.” The blonde man shrugged a bit as he handed Butterfly a laser spanner. “Plus Wasp has some beef or something with their leader. The Chilton guy.”

“Ooo! Yeah I heard of him. Isn’t he the guy from Deluxe who gave Kane the bird?” 

“I think so? I dunno. I don’t pay much attention. Just know it’s gotten Wasp--” some clanging could be heard, “Pissed off enough to drag out her boxing bag and the Pariahs spooked.” 

“They coming back?”

“Hope not. Those Drop Outs have been _hella_ feisty lately. I have no clue what they’re doing poking around down here but I really hope they stay the hell away.” 

"Hope so." Butterfly crawled back under her project. "Don't tell Cicada I used her iron to smooth out some metal."

"Not a word spoken."

\---

"- 'N Texas is gonna give that bug lady a taste of his gunchucks!" The Burner finished his third rant of the day. He was still sore (literally and figuratively) about getting his ass kicked for a bit by the local gang; having to get his nose bandaged after it was set, a big ugly bruise on the middle of his face. He was definitely still holding onto that grudge and he was _totally_ still airing it out to the rest of the crew, much to their dismay. 

"Tex. We get it." Mike’s exhaustion shone clear on his holographic avatar, and he could almost see the furrow of his brow. "But can we _please_ put it in the back pocket ‘till after we finish with today's search?"

"Tch. Fine…. But if I see her again-!" 

"Dude _we get it!_ " Julie snapped, but paused when she caught herself. She just groaned as she massaged her temple. "Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, I’m still wound up.”

“It’s okay. Just- just remember: stay in pairs and stay close to the cars if you leave ‘em anywhere but the Rec Center. I don't wanna know how fast these guys can strip our cars if we're not careful." 

Texas just sighed, looking through his rearview mirror to see Julie in 9Lives behind him, engine still revving as if expecting him to speed off in search of Wasp. And he would! If he knew where the hell she and her posse was, he definitely would and show them the one-two! Chuck could scream all he wanted about it being too dangerous but he'd…. He'd…. 

He just sat there, staring straight ahead but not really looking at anything in particular. He really, _really_ hated that he had to admit he was really starting to miss the sound of the blonde man's shrieks and worries and stupid brainiac nerd stuff he did. It wasn't that long since they last saw him so he shouldn't be missing him at all! They'd lost track of each other before a couple of times, but they'd always found one another again so it shouldn't be such a big deal!

But, it was. It was because with the short amount of time they were able to look each day, and then having to leave early last time after poking the metaphorical (and almost literal) wasp's nest, almost four days had passed since they’d last seen Chuck. Knowing Pariah Town, he didn't want to dwell too long on what they possibly wanted him for, or wanted to do _with_ him. Ransom was the best case scenario that he could think of and Texas was pretty smart, so he knew like, at least five other horrible things that they could be doing with him that sucked to think about. But kidnapping made the most sense. Although it was _also_ the most dumb because Texas was a lot more valuable! He should have been snatched instead of Skinny. That way they’d still have Skinny and Texas could _easily_ take down the bad guys, wow everyone with his awesomeness--

And they wouldn’t lose another Burner. It should’ve been him. 

A tapping on his window brought him out of his secret sulking. 

"Hey! How about you plan your revenge for later and get out? It'll be easier asking people questions if we're not constantly moving two hundred miles a minute." Julie said, hopping off of the foot rest to let him open the car door. They were in an area with more of the big houses, all falling apart in varying stages. The lawns had long since died, nothing but cracked dusty earth starved of natural sunlight and clean air. It was freakin’ _creepy_ , Texas didn’t like being there.

The man didn’t take long to hop out of Stronghorn, making sure it was locked tighter than Jacob's medicine cabinet as he followed her. He left her to do all the talking, deciding to stand there and silently help intimidate the people with his awesome flexing! 

They made sure not to go far from their vehicles, barely half a block away. All they did was just stop people to show them Chuck’s image and ask for help. A few allowed themselves to be questioned, while the rest parted like the red sea when seeing the logos on their clothes. Ch’ya, you’d _better_ be afraid of Texas and the Burners! Maybe next time you guys won’t be so dumb and snatch one of Texas’ boyfriends. Then he wouldn’t _have_ to intimidate you. 

It was a little after noon and the questionable people dried up. Texas scowled, surveying the empty streets. “Where’d everybody go?” Dutch voiced aloud what he and the others were all thinking.

“Texas don’t like this. Something’s got them spooked.” He hoped it was something he could fight.  
  


“You mean something besides us?” 

“Something besides _Texas_ and his bodacity.” 

“There aren’t supposed to be any strikes coming in.” Julie noted. “So unless everyone went home for a siesta, they all know something we don’t.”

A car alarm went off. _Stronghorn’s car alarm!_ Eyes widening, the group turned and rushed back towards where they’d left them parked. They found three denizens of Pariah Town gathered around them!

“Hey, HEY! LEAVE STRONGHORN ALONE CREEPS!” Texas bellowed as he saw one of them lifting a brick to smash the windshield in! Guess he got his wish. 

They looked up, and Texas went running for them despite the others yelling at him to wait. Texas didn’t _do_ waiting around. He was gonna make ‘em pay for trying to mess with his stuff and taking his buddy! Like scared rabbits, they took off, across the crumbling street and into a back alley. Texas followed, hot on their tail, and the Burners following him.

Too bad Texas wasn’t known for _thinking_ before he tried something. The three Pariah Townies skidded to a halt and turned, grinning wildly. And then suddenly the Burners were surrounded. Uh oh. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” Dutch muttered in exhausted frustration. “Texas-!”

“Yeah yeah, lemme punch my way outta this an’ you can get mad at Texas later.” He was already frustrated and absolutely _done_ with this town now.

“I’m surprised you showed up _here_. Scouting for new turf?” One of them, a brunette with a twitch to his eye said. He was holding a metal bat with nails welded crudely to it. 

“We’re just looking for our friend. That’s it. We don’t want trouble.” 

They laughed at Mike’s attempt to smooth the situation over. “Well too bad, ‘cuz you just found it. Everyone upstairs talked about you Chilton, how you went off the deep end and made you an’ the Burners sound like something unkillable. Boy they exaggerated you pathetic sons of bitches.” The brunette’s sneer was met with some chuckles. “Tell you what,” he pointed the bat at him, “Give us your shit an’ we’ll let you go.”

  
“Fat chance!” Texas snarled. “None ‘a you freaks are getting Stronghorn or any of our cars!” He was already thinking up a Texas-ified plan to take them all out. If he could just find a trash can!

“You say that but you’re at a pretty big fuckin’ disadvantage.” The guy rolled up his sleeve and something glowed _red_. Mike let out a gasp.

“Can’t be!” 

Texas looked down and saw what it was: a Booster. The guy tapped it twice and his head snapped almost _painfully_ back, eyes rolling before a red hue filled them, giving him a demonic look. Cracking his neck as he rolled his shoulders back, a manic grin took up half of his face. 

“So. You Burners wanna hand over your shit? Or are we gonna have a problem?”

Around them, the others did the same as their de facto leader. All of them had Boosters. Every. Single. One. 

“How’s that possible?” Dutch murmured under his breath in horror. Texas was already thinking up five different ways to punch them all out with his totally awesome skills _without_ the trash can lid. 

“We can’t do that, we’ll be stranded.” Mike tried (and failed) to reason with the leader.

“Too bad and so sad. We don’t _give_ a shit. So hand ‘em over or we’re gonna make you wish you had!” 

“HOOAH!” Texas rushed one, throwing a punch and yes! Totally nailed it! Too bad that the Booster junk they were using made the guy not feel anything. Lame! He wiped blood from his nose and went to deliver the same to Texas, who expertly (luckily) dodged and kicked out his legs. “You may be all juiced up but you’re not as sick as Texas!” He declared, and then was promptly slammed by a kick he didn’t see coming into the brick wall!

Weapons were pulled. The Boosted Outliers surrounded them, looking ready to bring it. Some went in, mainly going after Texas since he was bigger and tougher. They all tried to smash in his face with their weapons or their fists, and Texas was starting to get even more annoyed. Hell, these guys were flocking them like mutant vultures! Didn’t help that their ugly beady red eyes glowed like them. Some tried to get the first damaging hit in, coming back no matter how many times the duo threw them back. 

"Ugh. And I thought Kane Cadets were annoying with these boosters." Julie growled as she Judo-flipped one over her shoulder just as he tried to use a rusty bat to knock her silly. 

"Well too bad for you! We don't leave till we pick those beauts of cars clean of every last valuable piece!" The leader cackled, standing high and mighty as he watched the other members flock them on all sides. 

“Why don’tcha actually fight Texas instead of standing an’ talking smack?!” The Burner snarled, fed up with being toyed with. 

“Maybe I will-”

Suddenly he jerked, going cross eyed as he went and flopped down to the ground as something- or more specifically _someone_ holding a pipe- knocked the guy’s lights out! A woman glared at the men and women as she twirled it in her hand. Her eye make up made her look more pointed, _predatory_ as she scowled at the guy on the ground for a moment. Then she was looking around carefully at them all. The Burners blinked in surprise at the sudden entrance of the woman, taken aback by the unexpected assitance (or more trouble). 

"How many times do we all have to tell ya druggies to fuck off outta here?! Do I really need to call Adam again to get him to teach y'all some manners?" She yelled, seeming to be able to stand her ground without any fear. 

But unlike these guys, and maybe even Julie - who was focused on not allowing them to get an opening on her - Texas could tell by the slight trembling she had that the newcomer was barely keeping it together; probably was close to pissing herself silly! Squaring her jaw and glaring though, in holding her stance, it thankfully caused the Boosted Outliers to miss her fear. As the guy on the ground was dragged away by a couple others, one of them, a blonde this time with a scar on his cheek, glared back at her. 

"We ain't scared of the old man!" 

"Oh yeah? Maybe I should call his ass right now and make sure he knows _exactly_ who's making a ruckus." She summoned her holo screen with a swipe of her finger, hand hovering over a name Texas couldn't read from the angle he was standing at. 

The group looked at one another, one of them beginning to bite her lip at the idea of this Adam person being called out to take care of them. Whoever this dude was, he must have been scarily awesome and awesomely scary to have them second guessing their course of action while all hopped up on Boosters. 

“Fine! Fuck you bitch!” One of them yelled, flipping her off. They turned and ran off, down the alleyway and leaping over fences. 

The Burners all breathed a collective sigh of relief, turning to look at the newcomer. “Thanks for the save.” Dutch spoke up first. 

Texas snorted. _Like they needed it_ , but sure. 

“Don’t thank me yet. The hell are you idiots doing all the way out here? Aren’t you supposed to be trying to kick Kane’s ass over in the main hub?” 

“We--”

“We’re looking for our friend.” Julie cut Texas off, pulling up the image of Chuck to show her, as well as the truck. 

Her brow furrowed. “You think he’s here?” 

“We’re pretty sure. Have you seen him?”

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. If I did, what’d I get in return?”

Everyone shared an incredulous look. “Oh come _on!”_ Dutch groaned. 

“Listen, we just need to know, okay? He’s-”

“Worth enough that if you four are coming here to find him, you’re desperate.” Holly cut off Mike, admiring her glossy nails. “Especially if you’re coming around when there’s Drop Outs.” 

Texas frowned at the name. Really? That’s what they called themselves? “S’ that what those Booster-junk guys are? It’s a really dumb name.”

“They’re Ex-Junior Cadets or some shit, I dunno. I didn’t make up the name.”

“They should be called something more _badass_ like Boost-”

“Listen as much as I’d like to chit chat with you about new labels for the Drop Outs, I left my job in order to see what the hell all that racket is about and I’ve got my customer waiting. So unless you’re paying me for my time, hon, clock’s ticking. Do you want my help or not?” 

Mike sighed heavily. Texas knew that: Mike was out of options and desperate enough. “Okay.”

“So whatever-your-name-is--”

“Holly.” She interrupted Texas.

“Whaddya want?”

“Out of here. I want you guys to get me to the main hub and set me up somewhere so that I don’t end up back here.”

“... That’s it?” Dutch was taken aback at the simplicity of her request. “I mean it’d take a few days to set up but-”

“I don’t care so long as you follow through. I’m helping you four out, so help me out.” 

“You have our word. So just tell us what you know, _please_.” 

“‘Kay, lemme see the image of that truck again.” She instructed. When Julie pulled it up, she leaned over and squinted at it. “So there’s only three trucks that could be. One guy I know wouldn’t even pull this shit or else his roommate would _annihilate_ his ass. The other is an artist by the name of Elvi and they’re on the other side of town. The third is Penelope Parker, she lives on the outskirts.” 

“That narrows it down _significantly_ , thank you so much.” Julie sighed in relief as she closed the holo screen.

Her eyes scanned the group, Holly looking over them, one after the other thoughtfully and then they fell on Texas. Without a single word spoken, and before he could say anything himself, she strode up to him in three steps and snatched his cap! 

“Insurance.” Was her only word as she stuffed it into the front of her black top. 

Everyone was equally speechless, jaws dropping. Texas’ face contorted between shock, horror, anger, horror again, and contemplation about how dead he’d be if he _tried to reach in there to get it back-_

“We don’t have time for this!” Mike blurted out.

“Nothing in this world’s free, especially down here. So unless you want your precious cars to get hauled off, I suggest you don’t dilly-dally any longer and go check those leads out. I’ll be waiting.” From her back pocket she pulled out a card and slipped it into the front of Texas’ jumpsuit. The man turned red. _Bye-bye Ruby, Texas had a new crush._ “Take care, don’t be a square.” She sang as she walked through an adjacent gate, towards a slowly dilapidating house. 

"... I'm having mixed signals on how I should feel."

"I get it bud." Dutch patted his shoulder before turning back to go to his car. Texas knew he was fighting the smile growing on his face and the urge to laugh at Texas' horrid luck! Jerk. When they got Skinny back, Texas was gonna make him _regret_ it.

"Yeah. Well we got our leads, let's get a move on!" Texas hollered to the rest of the crew before hightailing it to his car and started to speed off.

The rest paused as they waited for his inevitable return. He backed up, rolling down the window of Stronghorn and he tried to play off his embarrassment with a half smile. "Where’re we going?" 

Julie just shook her head and went to the other vehicle. "I’ll look up the names she gave us and probably get an address or two real quick.”

“Man, you make _Mike_ look like a patient sage Texas.”

“Hey!” The leader protested as Julie got a hit on one of the names. 

“Come on. The sooner we get this figured out and find Chuck the sooner that girl will give Texas his hat back." 

"Texas will agree with Jem this once." He huffed, crossing his arms as he watched the others get into theirs and rev up their engines. Soon as they found Skinny, Texas was gonna make him pay for getting kidnapped. 

\---

Elvi’s place was an old bank, the front door having been blown open ages ago and a tarp serving as the door. They could hear machinery grinding as they got out of their cars, Texas hanging behind to guard them. 

“Hello?” Mike called as he pushed aside the tarp, stepping into the building. 

“Jussa’ sec man!” A voice called out from above. The trio of Burners looked up and gasped in shock and awe. A metal statue, made from rusted parts and cables loomed over them. It was shaped like an origami bird, sharp and jagged and proud. Bright flashes of light from a plasma welder flickered above. Shielding their eyes, the Burners made out a figure wearing a welding mask and being suspended in midair. The welder was turned off, the mask lifted and a hissing sound echoed as the figure lowered themselves from the harness they were in.

“Sup bros? You lookin’ to buy one ‘a my pieces?” 

Dutch let out a whistle. “Man, you worked your ass off on that thing. How long did you spend on it?”

“About two months now bro! You like?”

“Like? That’s amazing! That-” Mike cleared his throat, cutting Dutch off. “Is not what we’re here for, unfortunately.”

  
“Ah. You came for repairs?”

All three shared a look. “No, not that either. Do you own a truck like this?” Julie pulled up the image.

“Did. Back tire blew out two weeks ago. Can’t get it replaced so my ride’s material until I get enough to trade for it.”

“Can we see it?”

“Why you wanna see it?”

“We ah-”

“We’re looking to get a truck for ourselves.” Julie bullshitted for Mike, knowing he was horrible at it. “We’d pay double what you did.” 

“Hah. You crazy! But I’ll show you.” He motioned for them to follow. They walked through the bank, through a hole where the vault used to be and then into another building on the other side. “There she is!”

Mike squinted. “... Wrong color.” 

“Eh?”

“It’s the wrong color. We’re kind of picky.” Julie explained away. “Do you know anyone else who might be interested in selling theirs?”

“Ahh no, sorry. These things’re pretty valuable ya know? Like Penelope Parker’s. She never goes anywhere wit’ out it!” 

“That name rings a bell.”

“It should. She’s a pretty big name around here. If you’ve ever gotten produce, it’s from her greenhouse out on her Acreage.” 

“Definitely that then. Well, thanks anyways! We’ll think about the truck.”

They walked out and Mike sighed. “So that just leaves this Penelope Parker.”

“Acreage huh?” Julie muttered under her breath and began to look up possible locations. “... Only place one could be out here is close to the East Gate.” 

“The only place close out here is the Terra’s Territory.” Dutch countered.

“So didja find the truck yet?” Mike shook his head and Texas pouted. “Aww come on! Did you at least try interrogating him? You shoulda brought me in there, Texas coulda got ‘em talkin’!”

“It was the wrong color Texas.”

“He could’ve painted it!”

“No. Not that well an’ the back tire was missing. It’s matching up with what the guy’s claiming.” Dutch sighed. “Man I hope this Penelope person checks out, otherwise-”

Mike let out a tired sigh. “Let’s not think about it. C’mon. Sun’s going down soon. We’d better hurry.”

\---

Penelope Parker’s place was a five minute drive due SouthWest, situated on one of the old buried cables. The place had a good vantage point: not only did it allow for the residents to see who was coming, but it was closer to the edge of the Dome, in an area that was rarely if ever frequented by Kane (given the lack of scrap piles in the area). The Burners pulled up to a farmhouse that was clearly old and a bit rundown, but compared to the other houses within Pariah Town, it had definitely been fixed up. There was no truck in sight. Getting out of their cars, but on their guard in case any scavengers got some bright ideas, the four Burners approached the old porch and went up the steps. They didn’t even have to knock. The door was flung open, a blonde woman standing in the frame. She kept it mostly closed, her body in the way to make sure they couldn’t just easily push by.

“The hell you want?” She asked, glowering at the Burners. “You have five seconds before I call my wife to kick you out herself!"

"Listen lady, we're not here to start shit." Dutch raised his hands to ease her. The woman only rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorframe as she kept her eyes on them all, looking over each of them in deep suspicion. She took note of their Burner logos before looking to Dutch with a dangerous smirk, putting a hand on her hip. 

"I can tell ya that. I'm playing nice by giving you time to get off my property an’ letting my wife do it, instead of doing it the hard way. " 

"O-kay." Julie cleared her throat. She was oddly _defensive_. Time to put on the charm. "Listen. We were uh, just wanting to check out your truck-" This made Penelope raise an eyebrow at this. 

Mike cut in: "- to just get a reference! We wanted to get an idea since our friend Elvi wanted to try and see what pieces of the truck he's building are still needed. Gotta be accurate right?"

"... y’all suck ass at lying you know that right?" She flatly said. “Elvi goes by ‘them’ and wouldn’t ask people to do their shopping. I’m done here.” She stepped back and got ready to slam the door in their faces. Mike's foot halted it, looking a bit more openly desperate. 

"Look I'm sorry we lied we're just-!"

"I don't know what the fuck you’re planning but you’d better move that fucking foot or I’m gonna-!"

"Mrs. Parker _please_! Just let us see the car and we'll leave you alone!" 

"That is the oldest trick in the book you moron! Move it!" She growled, ready to smash his foot in the door. Luckily he retracted it before she could successfully do so, wincing from how long he used it as a door jam. 

"Mike what were you thinking?! Ugh. We don't even know where her truck is." Julie groaned, planting her palm into her face hard. 

"I wasn't, I just… we have to find Chuck okay?" 

"We know that dude!" Dutch sighed. "But doing that is only going to draw more attention to us. _Bad_ attention." 

Mike's shoulders drop in defeat, plopping down to sit on the stairs that led up to the front porch. Massaging his temples, he tried to think. "Ugh… what I wouldn't give for Chuck and his brain right now." 

"Texas almost misses his girly screams." 

"Yeah, I could almost hear 'em now- wait." Dutch paused, hearing a high pitched scream coming from behind the house. "Anyone else hear that? Like for real."

They all shared a look. There it was again! They tore around the side of the house, towards the sound. They expected to find nothing and be hunting for a root cellar or secret entrance or _something_ \- 

“Uh?” A small girl stared up at them from where she was standing, holding a toy foam sword. An even smaller boy with big brown eyes sat silently next to her, holding one as well. Both the Burners and the girl stared at each other. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Mike awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sorry uh, was it you who was screaming?”

“Yeah?” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Sorry, I’m not supposed ‘t but we were fighting the Bug Queen an’ it got a lil’ freaky.” 

Dutch couldn’t help but snigger. “That’s all right. Sorry to startle you.” False alarm. The Burners turned away, but then she gasped upon seeing their logo.

“I know those! You’re Burners!” 

Mike hesitated, and turned around. “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

Her eyes lit up. “You’re so cool! You drive cars super super fast an’ fight bad guys too! I wanna be a Burner when I grow up! Or a scientist.” 

Maybe it was from their long day. Maybe that’s what came over Mike when he knelt down, still grinning at her. “I bet you’d make a good Burner.” 

“An’ you know what else?”

“What else?”

“I’ve seen that logo before! Onna blue shirt!”

Everyone froze. “A blue-?” Julie started to say.

“No that can’t be.” 

“A blue shirt. You saw the logo on a _blue_ shirt?” Mike cut off Dutch as he pointed at his logo on his jacket. The little girl nodded. 

“Uh huh! It was-!”

“Nancy!” They all looked up to see not Penelope standing there, but _Mina_. “Nancy, come inside. You and your brother.”

“Okay mama! I gotta go. Bye bye!” She grabbed her little brother’s hand and pulled him towards the back door before the Burners could stop her.

“Hey- hey wait-!” Mike tried to follow her but then Mina shot him a look and he stopped dead. 

“Chilton.” She waited for Nancy and her brother to go inside before shutting the screen door and strode up. Her prosthetic creaked and whined. “You got some _fucking_ nerve coming to my house and harassing my wife and kids.” 

“Mina, I didn’t mean to-”

“Save it. I know you wanna save your friend but chasing after kids and _lying_ to people about seeing their vehicles when you _know_ that they’re an extremely precious commodity is crossing the line. I’m extremely disappointed in you. _All of you_.” She turned and walked back to the house, going up the steps and opened the door. “I don’t want to see you back here. Understand me?” 

It slammed shut with a creak and clap. Mike stood there, an unreadable expression on his face. “... Mike? You okay?” Dutch asked softly.

“Let’s go. The lead’s a dead end, for now.” He eyed the door with a look that they’d all come to understand meant _‘I don’t like the look of this’_. They all slowly followed him back to their cars, out of time again. 

But Mina knew _something_ and they all knew they hadn’t left totally empty handed this time.

\---

“Nancy, sweetie what did the man ask you?”

“He’s a Burner! I told him I wanted to be one or a scientist an’ he was really nice.” The girl said as she ate her snack and played with a Barbie doll. “And he had the same symbol Uncle Wilfred’s friend does!” 

“... Uncle Wilfred’s _friend_ huh?” Mina eyed Penelope, then took her arm and guided her into the living room. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. They were looking for him the other day. The hell did Wilfred-?!”

  
“The hell did _Adam_ do you mean.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she headed for the coat closet at the front door. “I’ll go down there and see what the fuck that idiot is doing. If he did what I think he did, he’s in so much trouble I’ll make _Kane_ look like a pansy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Brought to you by angst and "he's a himbo" being screamed at 2 a.m. on the Motorcity Discord Server.


End file.
